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Being Sent 

A Personal Reflection on Jesuit Governance 
in Changing Times 



Clement J. Petrik, SJ. 



30/4 SEPTEMBER 1998 



THE SEMINAR ON JESUIT SPIRITUALITY 

A group of Jesuits appointed from their provinces in the United States. 

The Seminar studies topics pertaining to the spiritual doctrine and 
practice of Jesuits, especially American Jesuits, and communicates the results to 
the members of the provinces. This is done in the spirit of Vatican IFs recom- 
mendation that religious institutes recapture the original inspiration of their 
founders and adapt it to the circumstances of modern times. The Seminar wel- 
comes reactions or comments in regard to the material that it publishes. 

The Seminar focuses its direct attention on the life and work of the 
Jesuits of the United States. The issues treated may be common also to Jesuits 
of other regions, to other priests, religious, and laity, to both men and women. 
Hence, the studies, while meant especially for American Jesuits, are not exclu- 
sively for them. Others who may find them helpful are cordially welcome to 
read them. 

CURRENT MEMBERS OF THE SEMINAR 

Richard A. Blake, S.J., holds the Gasson Chair at Boston College as visiting 
professor of fine arts (1998). 

Philip J. Chmielewski, S.J., teaches religious social studies at Loyola University 
in Chicago (1998). 

Richard J. Clifford, S.J., teaches Old Testament at Weston Jesuit School of 
Theology in Cambridge, Mass. (1997). 

Gerald M. Fagin, S.J., teaches theology in the Institute for Ministry at Loyola 
University, New Orleans, La. (1997). 

Richard J. Hauser, S.J., teaches theology at Creighton University and directs its 
graduate programs in theology, ministry, and spirituality (1998). 

John P. Langan, S.J., as holder of the Kennedy Chair of Christian Ethics, teach- 
es philosophy at Georgetown University, Washington, D.C. (1996). 

Thomas M. Lucas, S.J., chairs the Department of Fine and Performing Arts and 
teaches therein at the University of San Francisco (1998). 

Edward T Oakes, S.J., teaches theology at Regis University, Denver, Col. 
(1997). 

John W. Padberg, S.J., is chairman of the Seminar, editor of STUDIES, and direc- 
tor and editor at the Institute of Jesuit Sources (1986). 

Timothy E. Toohig, S.J., a high-energy physicist, does research and administra- 
tion in Washington and lives at Georgetown University (1997). 

James S. Torrens, S.J., is an associate editor of America in New York (1996). 

The opinions expressed in STUDIES are those of the individual authors thereof. Parenthe- 
ses designate year of entry as a Seminar member. 

Copyright © 1998 and published by the Seminar on Jesuit Spirituality 
3700 West Pine Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108 
(Tel. 314-977-7257; Fax 314-977-7263) 



Being Sent 

A Personal Reflection on Jesuit Governance 
in Changing Times 



Clement J. Petrik, SJ. 



STUDIES IN THE SPIRITUALITY OF JESUITS 

30/4 SEPTEMBER 1998 



Antonio M. de Aldama, S.J. 

An Introductory 

Commentary on the 

Constitutions 

An historical, documentary, interpretative, 

and spiritual understanding of the Jesuit 

Constitutions. 

Cloth: ISBN 0-912422-92-0 ♦ $22.95 

Paper: ISBN 0-912422-93-9 ♦ $16.95 

Antonio M. de Aldama, S.J. 
Jesuit Religious Life 

Part Six of the Jesuit Constitutions, on the 
distinctive character of Jesuit religious life. 
Paper: ISBN 1-880810-13-1 ♦ $14.95 

Pedro Arrupe, S.J. 

In Him Alone Is Our Hope 

The chief texts on the Heart of Christ that 
Fr. Arrupe wrote during his generalate. 
Paper: ISBN 0-912422-87-4 ♦ $6.00 



Jean-Yves Calvez, S.J. 
Faith and Justice 

The social dimension of evangelization, 
and an examination of Jesuit Congregation 
32's decree on faith and justice. 
Paper: ISBN 0-912422-49-1 ♦ $17.95 



Thomas H. Clancy, S.J. 

The Conversational 

Word of God 

A commentary on St. Ignatius's doctrine 
concerning spiritual conversation, using 
four early Jesuit texts. 
Cloth: ISBN 0-912422-33-5 ♦ $5.00 
Paper: ISBN 0-912422-34-3 ♦ $2.50 



Antonio M. de Aldama, S.J. 
The Formula of the Institute 

The sources, development, and meaning of 
this foundational Jesuit document. 

Cloth: ISBN 0-912422-55-6 ♦ $16.95 
Paper: ISBN 0-912422-56-4 ♦ $9.95 



Pedro Arrupe, S.J. 

One Jesuit's Spiritual Journey 

Autobiographical details of the late Jesuit 
general's life and work both before and 
during his generalate. 

Cloth: ISBN 0-912422-69-6 ♦ $10.00 
Paper: ISBN 0-912422-68-8 ♦ $8.00 



William V. Bangert, S.J. 

A History of the 

Society of Jesus 

The most comprehensive and up-to-date 
single-volume history of the Society of 
Jesus that is available today. 

Cloth: ISBN 0-912422-73-4 ♦ $21.00 



Philip Caraman, S.J. 

A Study in Friendship: 

Saint Robert Southwell 

and Henry Garnet 

The friendship that existed between 
English Jesuits Southwell and Garnet from 
1586 to Southwell's martyrdom, as this 
appears in their correspondence. 

Paper: ISBN 1-880810-15-8 ♦ $14.95 



TEL 314-977-7257 



The Institute of Jesuit Sources 

FAX 314-977-7263 



e-mail IJS@SLU.EDU 



For your information . . . 

We were millionaires for a few hours. That unlikely event occurred last 
August 3 just after three Jesuits— Fr. Edward Schmidt of Chicago, myself, and our 
host in Vilnius— had crossed the border from Lithuania into Belarus. We exchanged 
German deutsche marks worth about thirty American dollars into Belarus currency 
and received 1,440,000 "bunnies." (The local currency is so called because of the 
picture of a rabbit on one of the bills and because it is multiplying so rapidly due to 
inflation.) We spent that munificent sum on our journey to and from the city of 
Polotsk. Our goal was to visit the site at which, thanks to Czarina Catherine the 
Great, the Society of Jesus hung on by its thumbnails and continued a canonically 
valid existence and a heroic apostolic life during the forty-one years when it was 
suppressed in the rest of the world. These pages are too few for the details of a day 
that started at seven in the morning and ended near one o'clock the next morning, 
involved three border crossings, and included breakfast in Lithuania, dinner in 
Belarus, and supper in Latvia. 

Let me simply say that I thought we were on holy ground when finally we 
talked our way through the gatehouse of the military hospital in Polotsk that at one 
time had been a Jesuit college and then the Jesuit curia. We could not venture 
beyond the gatehouse, much less into the building itself. The guards were insistent 
on that. But we could see the building at that point and also as we walked around 
the outside walls of the poorly tended grounds. It was a three-story seventeenth- and 
eighteenth-century building of stucco-covered brick in a simple neoclassical style, 
with pilasters at the corners and a large, arched central entryway. The front and 
walls of the building had recently been painted pink and white, but rusting window 
frames rendered this a useless gesture. The bare and chipped brick walls of the back 
of the building made it an even more forlorn sight, but large filled-in window arches 
bespoke a former grand chapel and possibly a theater. The Society of Jesus had lost 
possession of the building some time before Czar Alexander I exiled all Jesuits from 
Russia in 1820. Whatever uses it may then have been put to for the next hundred 
years, it was clear that during the seventy years of the Soviet empire, preventive 
maintenance there or seemingly anywhere else had been totally neglected. 

Paradoxically, the physical state of the place now would rightly distress a 
Jesuit who knew its history, but that very history made of the place, as I said, "holy 
ground." Why? Because on those grounds and in that building played out the lives of 
the men who, in an act of continuing hope and courage, held the threads that 
connected two hundred and twenty-three years on one side, from the foundation of 
the Society in 1540 to its suppression in 1773, to the two hundred and twenty-five 
years from 1773 to this present year of 1998. We might pray to be as faithful in our 
lives and work as they were to the spirit of the Society. 

Welcoming the new members of the Seminar on Jesuit Spirituality is always 
a happy occasion, and introducing them to you an equally happy opportunity. 



in 



Richard A. Blake (NYK) presently holds the Gasson Chair at Boston College as 
visiting professor of fine arts. Philip J. Chmielewski (CHG) is superior of the commu- 
nity at the Woodlawn Jesuit Residence and professor of religious social ethics at 
Loyola University in Chicago. Richard J. Hauser (wis) is professor of theology at 
Creighton University and director of its graduate programs in theology, ministry, 
and spirituality. Thomas M. Lucas (CFN) is department chairman and professor of 
fine and performing arts at the University of San Francisco. 

Studying theology has introduced us all to words or phrases sometimes 
both freighted with a long history and defined very precisely for scholarly use. The 
word "theology" fits that description, not to mention other such terms as eschatol- 
ogy, grace, faith, orthodoxy, church, revelation, infallibility, and even the word 
"God" itself. Now comes a book that takes many of the terms that Christians use to 
express many of our deepest religious beliefs and, in a brief essay on each such term, 
illustrated by personal experience, assembles a poetic, commonsense, quite moving 
lexicon of these familiar words. Amazing Grace (New York, Riverhead Books; 383 
pp., $24.95) is "a vocabulary of faith" that will enlarge the vocabulary while enrich- 
ing the faith of any reader. 

One of the current members of the Seminar, James Torrens, has recently 
published Reaching toward God: Reflection and Exercises for Spiritual Growth (Kansas 
City: Sheed and Ward; 156 pp., paperback $14.95). This, too, is a series of brief 
essays, many of which earlier appeared in the Jesuit journal Human Development. We 
reach for God in the midst of all the circumstances of our lives, from family to 
friendship, from youth to maturity, from self-esteem to disappointment. The author 
addresses questions that arise from contemporary psychology and its application to 
some of the basic concepts of Christianity. Fr. Torrens, who was responsible for the 
last issue of STUDIES, "The Word That Clamors: Jesuit Poetry That Reflects the 
Spiritual Exercises," knows, as one review remarks, the truth of Freud's observation 
that artists perceive things long before anyone analyzes them. 

And as for an anniversary: In 1898 Jesuit missionaries received permission 
from the Holy See to celebrate Mass on shipboard. 



John W. Padberg, 5./. 
Editor 






IV 






CONTENTS 

July 1968 

"You can do it": The Superior and the Impact of Changing Times 1 

Issue: The Appointment of Superiors 4 

Issue: Whose House Is This Anyway? 5 

Issue: Relationship to School Administration 6 

Issue: The Sexual Revolution 7 

Issue: Peace 8 

Issue: Protests in the Church 10 

Issue: The Discipline of Community Life 12 

Issue: Directed Retreats and Spiritual Direction 14 

And So . . . 14 

March 1979 

"There is no need to send me": The Superior and Corporate Discernment 15 

Issue: Mixed-Gender Community 16 

Issue: Total Identification of Community and Ministry 17 

Issue: Justice and Service to the Poor 18 

Issue: Patriotism and the Flag 20 

Issue: Discernment and Decision Making 22 
Issue: Collaboration with Advisory Board 

and Non-Jesuit Staff 23 

Issue: Collaboration with the Local Church 24 

And So . . . 25 

December 1985 

"Where everyone is poor": The Superior and Service to the Poor 25 

Issue: The Camden Context in 1987 26 
Issue: Collaboration with the Laity and with the Local Church 28 

Issue: Theological Reflection 30 

Issue: What I Have Learned 30 

And So . . . 32 



vi •!• Contents 

November 1993 

"What about you?" The Superior and Collaboration in Ministry 32 

Issue: Corporate Community Apostolate 33 

Issue: Diminishing Presence and Diminishing Control 33 

Issue: The JSEA 34 

Issue: The Province Ministry of Secondary Education 34 

Issue: Health Care of Jesuits 35 

Issue: Prayer 36 

And So . . . 36 

Conclusion 37 



Being Sent 

A Personal Reflection on Jesuit Governance 
in Changing Times 



July 1968 

"You can do it." 

The Superior and the Impact of Changing Times 

You can do it," the provincial said to me that July 2, 1968. He had 
summoned me to his office to tell me that in two days I would 
become rector of the Jesuit Community at Gonzaga College High 
School in Washington, D.C. He had not previously spoken to me about this 
assignment. I was thirty-six years old and had lived only two years in an 
apostolic community; in retrospect, I must admit that I knew nothing about 
governance in the Society. 

I can truly say that in my Jesuit "career" I had no "ambition" other 
than to finish the course, take some graduate studies, and then be an excel- 
lent high-school teacher for the rest of my life. Pedro Arrupe once said that 
it is in being sent that a Jesuit becomes a Companion of Jesus. Four different 
times I was sent to ministries which I had not ambitioned or anticipated and 
for which I felt myself poorly prepared. But in faith I went. I would spend 
twenty-one years as superior of four different Jesuit communities, sent to 
each one by a different provincial. Each missioning was in a different 
historical decade, the sixties, the seventies, the eighties, and the nineties. 
Each community was set in a radically different context from the others. In 



Newly appointed superior of the Jesuit Community at St. Ignatius Church, 
Baltimore, Fr. Clement J. Petrik, S.J., is also provincial assistant for pastoral ministries of 
the Maryland Province. His address at the province office is 5704 Roland Avenue; 
Baltimore, MD 21210; his telephone number is [410] 532-1400; his e-mail address is 
cjpetriksj@msn. com 



2 •!• Clement J. Petrik, SJ. 

some of the communities, I would also have significant responsibility for the 
ministry of that community. In this essay I share with you my particular 
examen on these four different situations, and I explore briefly some of the 
issues arising in each one. 

Until the late sixties all rectors were also the directors of the works 
in which their communities were involved. In the high schools of the 
Maryland Province, most of the professional staffs of the schools were 
Jesuits — scholastics and young priests, with a few older Fathers. In 1966 the 
six high schools of the Maryland Province were given their freedom. Each 
could express its own identity and serve its own clientele in the Jesuit 
tradition without being forced into a fixed common regimen of curriculum, 
discipline, dress codes, and common examinations. Boards of trustees were 
activated and the schools began to discover the implications of independence. 
That independence entailed, among other things, a clear distinction between 
the entity of the Jesuit community and the entity of the educational institu- 
tion to which it was attached. 

To begin the task of determining the distinctiveness of the commu- 
nity and the institution, rectors were to be appointed for the Jesuit commu- 
nity who would have no position of authority in the school. Presidents of 
the schools would be appointed lacking any position of authority in the 
Jesuit Community. 

I was being sent to Gonzaga College High School in Washington, 
D.C., to be rector of a Jesuit community of more than forty men, most of 
whom served the apostolate of the school, while a few others served as the 
staff of St. Aloysius Parish. Just two years previously one man had been 
rector, pastor, and president. Now those functions were to be assigned to 
three different men. A pastor was already in place. I would become rector 
and another Jesuit from another community would become president. 

"May I have your blessing, please, Father?" I asked the provincial. 
And then I knelt on the floor of his office and received his blessing. The 
provincial agreed that, because of commitments I had already made for the 
summer, I would not have to report to Gonzaga until September 1. Fortified 
by his blessing, I left his office and went home to Loyola High School, 
outside of Baltimore, where I had just spent my first two years of active 
ministry as a priest after having finished formation and a year of studies 
abroad. 

Two weeks later, we received the news that the provincial had 
cleaned off his desk, apologized for not being able to celebrate the funeral of 
a Jesuit friend the next day, requested a ride to the train station, and taken 
the train to Philadelphia. There he had contracted a marriage with a di- 
vorced woman. 



Being Sent •%* 3 



As it turned out, the year 1968 was a time of extreme change in our 
American society, in the Society of Jesus, in the Catholic Church, and in 
world history. The Maryland Province was rocked by the departure of its 
respected, admired, progressive provincial, who had made every effort to 
bring our province to face the realities and the challenges of religious life in 
the sixties. In the several months before our provincial's departure, our 
nation had experienced two assassinations. After the death of Dr. Martin 
Luther King Jr., our cities went into a turmoil of rioting, bloodshed, and 
death. In Washington, D.C., the flames, the gunfire, and the violence swirled 
all around the heart of the city, where Gonzaga College High School and St. 
Aloysius Church are located. Within weeks of the King assassination, Robert 
Kennedy, was killed in California while campaigning for the Democratic 
nomination for the presidency of the United States. He had been the leading 
contender for the presidential nomination, and the Democratic national 
convention was just two months away. 

Less than two weeks after the precipitous and unexpected departure 
of the provincial, Pope Paul VI issued the encyclical Humance vitce. Surely 
the Pope could not have foreseen the worldwide radical reaction as clergy, 
laity, and religious protested this conservative position of the Church. To 
many, the Church seemed to have ignored the human tragedies constantly 
being presented to it. It was also known that the Pope had not followed the 
counsel of most of the experts whom he had appointed to advise him in 
these matters. By early October of 1968, in the archdiocese of Washington 
almost a hundred priests, including some of Ours at St. Aloysius Parish and 
at Holy Trinity Parish, had been put under various degrees of suspension for 
their unwillingness to totally accept the doctrine and the discipline of 
Humana vitce, at least as it was being interpreted by various bishops in the 
United States and around the world. 

The war in Vietnam, through 1968, was becoming more unpopular 
as it increased in intensity and decisive victory became ever more elusive. 
Because of pressures from the war, from the peace activists, and from the 
civil-rights violence, and because Robert Kennedy seemed to be outdistancing 
him in the polls, President Lyndon Johnson declared that he would not seek 
another term as President. After Kennedy's assassination the way was open 
for Vice President Hubert Humphrey to be the Democratic candidate. But 
Humphrey was defeated in the November elections, and Richard Nixon 
took over the Presidency and the war in Vietnam. 

Into this maelstrom of events swirling around the nation, the 
Church, and the Society of Jesus, all of it focused upon Washington, D.C., I 
blithely entered as rector of a Jesuit community on September 1, 1968. I 
made my first two significant decisions: I decreed that a new car should be 



4 4* Clement J. Petrik, S.J. 



bought (without air conditioning, though, because we have to be concerned 
about poverty), and I declared that there was no need to keep the liquor 
closet locked and the liquor available for only a very few minutes of the 
day. Both decisions caused some amazement and some rejoicing. Oh well. I 
was only thirty-six. 

There seem to be two wise but contrary pieces of advice given to a 
new superior. The first: Make no changes during your first year. The second: 
If you make no changes in the first year, you will never be able to make 
them. I chose the second as the advice I would accept. 

Some of the changes were happily accepted— the car, the liquor 
mentioned above, for example. Some were accepted with resignation. We 
instituted a system of personal budgeting. The prevailing system of coming 
to the superior and asking for "carfare" for the week was obviously archaic 
and irrelevant. I hoped that a personal budgeting system would make each 
man more responsible for his life and his decisions. The province treasurer at 
the time advised me against this system, but I adopted it anyway. Subse- 
quently, similar systems were implemented on all levels of the province and 
the assistancy. 

"No superior has ever asked me that before!" he (now deceased) said 
to me when he was telling me about his trip to Florida for personal and 
apostolic reasons. What I had asked was, "Do you have enough money for 
your time away?" 

I had never governed before nor had I given any thought to it. No 
one told me what my duties or responsibilities were. Since the situation of 
an "independent" rector was new to the experience of all of us, I felt we 
would work it out as we went along. 

Issue: The Appointment of Superiors 

It has always been the norm in the Society that adequate consulta- 
tion should precede the appointment of a superior or rector. But that kind 
of consultation did not often involve the person himself who was being 
considered for the office of superior. In my own case, my local superior, 
who was also a province consultor, had obtained permission from the 
provincial to get my reactions to such an appointment three or four months 
before the appointment was to be made. He presented me with a "What if 
. . ." scenario and solicited my reactions. Subsequently, I heard nothing more 
and proceeded to put the idea aside and to make plans for my own apostolic 
ministry. Until July 2. On that day the provincial summoned me to his 
office to tell me that Fr. General had appointed me rector, effective in two days. 



Being Sent & 5 



This kind of consultation and discernment could not take place in 
the Society today. The person being considered would certainly be consulted 
and interviewed before any decision was made. I went to my new commu- 
nity a totally unknown person except for a few who had been "in the 
course" with me. Given the large numbers of us who were in formation at 
the same time and the necessarily impersonal way of guiding the lives of all 
of us, it is difficult for me to imagine that there could have been any who 
were able to provide accurate informationes ad gubernandum. The next three 
times when I was appointed to a position of ministering to Ours, I was 
always part of the consultation process. 

Issue: Whose House Is This Anyway? 

Pain and anger erupted in our community as we began to live out 
the implications of two entities: Jesuit community and Jesuit school. "We 
have lived in these buildings for seventy years, and now you tell us that they 
are not ours? What do you mean, we have to pay rent to the school? This is 
our home!" Gradually to convert the profile of the community and the 
profile of the school into numbers representing compensation and cost was 
simple for a business manager and accountant. It was extremely difficult for 
members of a Jesuit community whose image of themselves was one of total 
sacrifice to the ministry, giving their very lives for the education of potential 
leaders in society and in church. Reducing their reality to numbers on a 
spreadsheet was to depersonalize and desacralize what all had viewed as their 
religious commitment and vocation. Misunderstandings, hurt feelings, anger, 
and astonishment were the common reactions. Community members 
accustomed to paternal governance by a Father Rector with presumably very 
deep pockets had no need to worry about their own personal future and 
their own personal care. 

"What do you mean, I have to sign a contract? I give this school 
twenty-four hours of dedication a day! Why do I need a contract?" 

The effort to regularize the relationship of all teachers with the 
institution and to assure a just treatment for all employees was nonetheless a 
sore point for the Jesuit community. They were no longer treated by 
administrators as somehow bound by their religious commitment to the 
ministry they were engaged in, but as employees from whom certain behav- 
iors and responsibilities could be demanded. They found themselves also 
being evaluated and compared with other teachers. They began to lose their 
autonomy in the classroom and had to collaborate with departments and 
department chairpersons in curriculum planning, methodologies, and discipline. 



6 4* Clement J. Petrik, SJ. 



Issue: Relationship to School Administration 

The decentralization of authority produced confusion in the com- 
munity. To live as "brothers" in community with the president and the 
headmaster whose decisions in the institution could threaten one's own 
personal and professional image was not easily accomplished. Nor did it 
seem totally objective to make decisions in the community about its own 
use of space or resources while school authorities were part of the delibera- 
tion. The a us vs. them" mentality was strong. Even with total goodwill on 
the part of both the "us" and the "them," the hostilities were felt and 
expressed. 

Beginning in 1966, under the direction of the provincial who would 
in two years depart the Society, a systematic planning procedure was initi- 
ated in the province. The process was devise a province plan, the first ever 
for the province. Committees and communities met to investigate every 
aspect of our ministries and of our life. This all-Jesuit planning process 
would be making decisions about our commitment to ministries and institu- 
tions for the foreseeable future. The departure of the provincial who had 
started the process and the departure of the Jesuit who was spearheading it 
did not thwart the progress already underway. A new provincial and a new 
chairman saw the process through. It was certainly the longest and most 
extensive consultation and planning process our province had ever carried 
out. Our men all did their part in communities. They felt the need to defend 
their ministries and their own institutions against the threat of having the 
supply of Jesuit manpower cut off or having their own institutions sacrificed 
for the good of the others. For two weeks at the old Woodstock College, 
the super committee, termed ADCOM, worked through all the reports and all 
the recommendations of all the working committees in order to give the 
provincial the best advice they could. The provincial then took all this 
advice and went off into seclusion to formulate the final version of the 
Province Plan of 1969. Specific ratings were given to the relative importance 
of our institutions, including those of higher and secondary education, to 
give notice of which had high priority in receiving available Jesuits and 
which had little or no hope of a life-stream of men. 

It is impossible to imagine now that it could ever again happen that, 
without the expertise and advice of the men and women who now staff 
those institutions, a group of Jesuit superiors and experts could make 
decisions which could help or threaten the life of institutions under our care. 



Being Sent 



Issue: The Sexual Revolution 



The year prior to my arrival at Gonzaga, two of its priests left the 
Society. One had "run off" with a teenage girl. The other seemed to have 
been having an ongoing relationship with a woman employed by the school; 
he too left. The opportunity for sexual relationships, sexual expression, and 
even sexual aggression were more present from this time as society and the 
values of the world were changing. At least some of our men as adolescents 
and young adults had not had the chance to achieve a healthy psychosexual 
balance. Then when opportunities were presented to them in their thirties, 
forties, or even later years, they made mistakes or entered into situations 
which made them understand that their vocations had not been screened 
carefully enough. The precipitous departure of their provincial gave some of 
our men permission to test their vocation and to investigate what other 
opportunities or graces their future would hold. 

The departure of a reasonably close friend was a painful experience 
for me. He clearly felt drawn to the married state. He did not want to live 
in a state of compromised celibacy, but he could not live in a state of total 
celibacy. I could feel myself being drawn into the wake stirred up by his 
departure. But my graces and vocation were different from his. 

There were several other incidents. The pastor at St. Aloysius, who 
had been censured by the archbishop after the Humarue vitie controversy, 
soon moved out of the community into a position with the federal govern- 
ment. As it became clear to him that his position in the community could 
not be rectified to his satisfaction, he too decided that he could do more for 
the poor as a federal employee and husband than as a Jesuit and a pastor. 
Wanting rather hasty release from the vows of religion, he decided to 
contract a civil marriage, which ipso facto brought about dismissal from the 
Society. But he would wait for formal dispensation from clerical celibacy 
before consummating the marriage. His successor as pastor at St. Aloysius, 
deciding that he was being called to the married life, also applied for dis- 
missal from the Society and dispensation from clerical celibacy. Indeed, he 
stayed as pastor until the day his formal papers arrived from Rome. 

A young brother had been assigned to our community. In the 
course of time, he became enamored of one of the young clerical employees 
of the school. That friendship too ended in marriage. 

During my tenure as rector, a laywoman teaching in our school 
came to my office to tell me that one of our priests had proposed marriage 
to her. She had not encouraged him, she wanted nothing to do with him. 
When I questioned him about this situation, he said that she seemed to be 
willing. But if she was saying otherwise, then he could accept that. End of 



8 * Clement J. Petrik, S J. 



incident. Sometime later he left the Society and after a period of time 
married someone else. 

Another time one of our younger priests invited me to join him and 
a friend, a nun, for dinner. We went to a very elegant restaurant and had an 
exquisite meal. In the course of dinner, he told me that he and his friend had 
contracted a civil marriage but that they each wanted to live for a while 
longer in their respective communities. I knew that by attempting marriage 
they were no longer religious. They asked me to keep their secret for a 
while. Not knowing what to do, I called the provincial's office the next day 
and told the socius what had happened. From that moment I had two very 
bitter enemies. From each of them I had a bitter tongue lashing and the 
promise that even if they could some day forgive me, they would never be 
able to forget how I had betrayed them. 

Obviously, not everything was peaceful in Jesuit community life. As 
rector, somehow I could not look at what was happening as perversions and 
infidelities; instead, I had to employ the light of faith to learn what God was 
doing. It seemed to me that we could not limit the way God works and 
make God fit into our perspectives. I had to believe that God could and did 
call people both to and through religious life, that for some reason God 
called these men into the Society of Jesus for a period of time, and that for 
equally good reasons God sent them on their way again into another form 
of Christian life. 



Issue: Peace 

"Clem?" It was the provincial's voice on the phone that morning. 
"Yes. What can I do for you?" I asked him. "A couple of our guys were 
arrested last night and they are in the city jail. Can you, as the nearest 
superior, go and see if they need anything?" Of course I went. But they were 
doing just fine. They were filled with the righteousness of their cause, 
protesting for peace and against the war in Vietnam. But they were a little 
frightened about the uncertainties of prison life and the length of their stay 
in jail. Fortunately, they did not stay there very long. They had been hauled 
in during one of the mass arrests that the police used to make in order to 
quell any riots or demonstrations. But their being in jail was a sign of the 
unrest that existed in our nation and especially in Washington, D.C., the 
focal point of most of these demonstrations. 

With mild curiosity and hesitant support, I would walk to the 
National Mall to observe what was happening. My first demonstration was 
when I was a "fourth-year Father" at Woodstock. A large group of theolo- 
gians was allowed to go to Washington for the Civil Rights March led by 



Being Sent •!• 9 



Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and to be present on the Mall when he gave his 
"I have a dream" speech. But the moral issues of racism were much clearer 
than the issues of war and peace. Certainly our Jesuit community would 
have been united on the issues of racism, but seriously divided on the issues 
of peace, war, and Vietnam. On several occasions it happened that the tear 
gas used by the police or the National Guard to dispel protesters could be 
smelled wafting over the Jesuit complex of St. Aloysius Parish and Gonzaga 
College High School. One of the Jesuit pastors once allowed the demonstra- 
tors to meet in the parish church and to sleep in school facilities. He inter- 
preted these facilities to be "parish facilities," even though the parish had not 
made use of them for years and they had been taken over by the school. 

Polite discourse about these issues proved impossible. Rather than 
by words, I tried to give leadership by example. I let it be known that I 
took part in most of these peace demonstrations. They merge now in my 
memory except for two that remain vivid. 

It was in the late spring, shortly after the tragedies at Kent State. 
There was to be a massive peace rally and demonstration in Washington on 
the Ellipse behind the White House. The reports that circulated for several 
weeks before the demonstrations gave great cause for anxiety. There was 
anger and bitterness against the Nixon Administration because of Kent State. 
There were news accounts of an armory being broken into and weapons 
stolen. Not just the police and the National Guard but the regular military 
also was being positioned to keep order and quell violence. On the day of 
the demonstration, in the courtyards of the federal buildings could be seen 
the hundreds or even thousands of soldiers ready to come forth if needed. 
All around the White House parked bumper to bumper were transit buses 
forming a barricade to protect the building and those inside. 

Putting on my collar and picking up the oils and a stole, I went 
forth to this demonstration telling myself that this is where the Church 
needs to be. Wanting to be a sign of hope and reconciliation, I went to be 
part of this demonstration. It was one of those days in late spring when 
Washington is at its most beautiful. There were bright sunshine, cloudless 
sky, gleaming federal buildings, and marble monuments; the grass glowed, 
the flowers shouted their colors, and the temperature was perfect. 

Enjoying the great weather but dreading what might very well 
happen this day, I approached the Mall and the Ellipse behind the White 
House. A slight blue haze hung over the thousands of mostly young people 
who were there. As I got closer, I realized that the haze was the smoke from 
burning marijuana. The speakers droned on from the stage, but at least at 
the fringes of this enormous crowd, nobody was paying much attention. The 
weather and the pot and the age of the demonstrators had coalesced to make 



10 •$• Clement J. Petrik, SJ. 

this one great picnic rather than one great angry mob. People were sprawled 
out over the grass. Some had music, food, and drink. Party time! 

Breathing a sigh of relief and a prayer of gratitude, I wandered 
around to see what more was going on. Just to the east of the Ellipse is a 
large fountain with a pool. A crowd was gathered around the pool and a 
noise was coming from the crowd. Like Zaccheus, I could not see over the 
heads of the demonstrators. I climbed up on a bench to see what was 
happening in the pool. A dozen or so youngsters in their late teens or early 
twenties were splashing around in the pool and shouting slogans. Then one 
of them shouted, "Let's take our clothes off." And they did. As I watched 
this spectacle from atop my bench, someone— a Catholic certainly— spotting 
my clerical garb said, "What do you make of that, Father?" "Well," I said, "it 
looks like they are having a good time." 

The other demonstration I recall took place during the summer. A 
big pro- America rally was scheduled at which the Rev. Billy Graham was to 
speak. He would speak from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, from which 
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. had given his "I have a dream" speech. The 
crowd stretched out from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial almost to the 
edge of the reflecting pool to the east. I was listening to Dr. Graham and 
facing the Memorial when I heard the chanting behind me. Turning around 
I saw the "crazies" standing shoulder to shoulder across the reflecting pool 
and wading deliberately toward the crowd, toward me. They were in various 
stages of undress as they came toward us shouting, "Hell no! We won't go!" 
Thinking I had better get out of the way, I turned back toward Billy 
Graham; and there in front of me was a whole line of horse police facing 
the approaching demonstrators. I do not remember what happened next or 
how I got out of there, but I did. 

In this environment, at a relatively young age I was called to be a 
steadying influence on a Jesuit community of some forty men, almost all of 
whom were older than I. In this environment too, where "peace" had 
become a fighting word, now and then I had to write letters for some of our 
high-school seniors who wanted to register for the draft as a conscientious 
objectors. 

Issue: Protests in the Church 

We convened an emergency nieeting of the Jesuits in the morning 
before going to our work in the school. It was October 3, 1968, and we had 
just heard that two men from our community, the pastor and the associate 
pastor of St. Aloysius Church, had had their faculties restricted by the 
archbishop because of a document they had signed which protested the 



Being Sent 4* 11 

encyclical Humance vitce and its position on birth control and human 
freedom. At issue in this meeting was not so much the rightness of the 
encyclical nor our own positions in matters of sexual morality. The issue for 
us was the treatment of our brothers and the disciplinary action against 
them that was levied without any form of "due process." 

We fashioned a statement of our feelings about the treatment of our 
priests, and we asked the archbishop to rescind the restriction on the 
faculties of our men. We asked him to allow them to continue to give to the 
people the freedom of conscience that the teaching of the Church had 
always allowed. The majority of those in the community signed the final 
version. Then, accompanied by another of our priests, I took the statement 
to the archbishop's office and left it with his receptionist. Much to our 
dismay, the media had the story, distorted of course, even before the letter 
had been delivered. The car radio told us on the way to the chancery that 
the Jesuits at Gonzaga College High School had written a letter of protest to 
the archbishop in which they disagreed with the encyclical of Pope Paul VI. 
That, of course, was not exactly the burden of our letter. 

Our letter had its repercussions. It was commonly misinterpreted by 
everyone. Attempts to correct a false impression were futile. Parents who 
had previously considered sending their sons to Gonzaga were not only 
scared off by the riots of the previous spring and by the risks they perceived 
in sending their fourteen-year-old sons to the inner city all alone, but now 
they were also concerned about the Jesuit education at Gonzaga, which they 
perceived as being against the Pope and the archbishop. 

Some of us attended a few meetings with the disaffected diocesan 
clergy who had begun the whole protest movement. For the most part they 
were young, bright, and zealous men, sincere in their positions and con- 
vinced that they were promoting the good of the people. Most of them 
eventually left the priesthood, being unable or unwilling to work for and 
accept the restoration of their full faculties. It was a very difficult time for 
the church of Washington, which lost some of its best qualified men. Those 
who would struggle for due process and wait for the restoration of their 
faculties had to endure about four years of tension and misunderstanding. 
Perhaps only one Jesuit left the priesthood because of this controversy; but 
this man also had other issues in his life and the Humance vitce controversy 
only added to them. 

For a young rector, this experience was heady and dangerous. What 
motivated me to write the letter to the archbishop? What made me agree to 
convene the community meeting and take this action? Never before having 
had to take an unpopular stand based on principle, I was embarking on a 
voyage through a dark passageway with many hidden dangers. When I called 



12 •!• Clement J. Petrik, S J. 



and consulted the provincial about the letter, he said, "Do what you have to do." 

We also had to pay the consequences. Having dropped off the letter 
at the chancery, we did not know if we would be dismissed from the diocese 
the next day. The consequence for the men in our community who had 
signed the letter, and for priests throughout the diocese who had in any way 
expressed some disagreement over the encyclical, was to listen to the moral 
theologian John Ford, S.J., theological advisor to the archbishop of Washing- 
ton. Fr. Ford, in effect, taught a class and invited questions. It was basically 
an authoritarian appeal for acquiescence rather than an effort to persuade or 
to seek common ground. 

I still have to ask myself whether our action was wise and prudent 
or whether there was some other way to be united with our brothers whom 
I perceived to be treated unfairly. Now, thirty years later, there are still 
some of Ours who resent what I did in 1968. 

Issue: The Discipline of Community Life 

Whatever "sensitivity sessions" are or were I do not know. I have 
never taken part in one. But the fear of them cast a long shadow over our 
attempts at community meetings. The rhythm of regularly scheduled com- 
munity meetings was just beginning. The novelty implicit in them was that 
we were all expected to participate and "share our feelings" about whatever 
the agenda might be. This kind of gathering was far from the "he-speaks- 
we-listen" kind of experience we had all been accustomed to. We had an 
image of "sensitivity sessions" as taking the participants apart psychologi- 
cally, getting them to say things which in ordinary situations they would 
never utter or admit, and then letting them hang out there with all their 
vulnerabilities evident to all. Let it be said that such was never the intent or 
the dynamic of any community meetings, but many feared that this is what 
they would prove to be. 

A whole new understanding of community was emerging. Commu- 
nity was now being defined in terms of personal relationships and not in 
terms of location or work. Common prayer, common worship, shared lives, 
openness of communication, honesty and charity were now the elements of 
community. Community liturgy thirty years ago— and this is still true 
today — has not been able to express our unity with one another and with 
Christ. The liturgy has often been a divisive element in our communities. 
Either the liturgical style or the dueling homilies would make it difficult for 
some to attend and participate. Thirty years later there is still more than a 
remnant of these feelings. 



Being Sent 4* 13 



Time would often be the great excuse. Common prayer or common 
worship or community meetings could never be scheduled at a time when 
everyone could be free and available to participate. I reported to one provin- 
cial that it seemed to me that these community disciplines were not part of 
the charism of the Society, not something that Ignatius would have liked; if 
they were, they would have taken hold in our communities. It seemed to me 
that you discovered what the Society was all about if you looked at the men 
God had called to this vocation. We are who we are, and at that time we 
were not a group who easily moved toward the personal or the intimate, 
toward communication and openness with one another, toward common 
prayer and worship, to all of which our superiors and GC 3 1 were summon- 
ing us. 

There were those who, desirous of seeking a more satisfactory 
community life, asked to move out of the large communities and to form 
"small" communities or "intentional" communities. These men felt a need to 
live away from their work, to experience life without "servants," to have an 
opportunity to live in a more personal community with just a few men with 
whom they could share and pray. The reality of those communities, at least 
at first, was that they were expensive to maintain, they created the need for 
more cars, they became semiautonomous, and weakened the relationship 
with the local superior and the "large" community. Moreover, to judge from 
those who left the Society after belonging to those communities, at least 
some of our men wanted to move into them for greater personal indepen- 
dence, which in turn led to their requesting dismissal from the Society. 

As rector, I suppose I had the right to oversee more closely the 
communities that had sprung from our Gonzaga group. But both by temper- 
ament and by choice, I have no desire to pry into the lives of others. On 
one occasion when I went to one of these communities to tell them that the 
provincial was coming for visitation and wanted to stop by their house, a 
minor panic ensued. However, I had misinterpreted the provincial's inten- 
tions. He was not expecting to visit their house, but to have them visit him 
while he was at the large community. It was a lesson to me, however, that I 
should keep in closer touch with those who were attached to us. 

One of my many weaknesses as superior was presuming that our 
men were aware of their responsibilities and obligations. I had no desire to 
regulate their lives, their comings and goings, their idiosyncrasies, their 
spiritual lives. I tried to make it clear that as rector I was not the spiritual 
father. In retrospect, I should have been more aggressive and intruded myself 
more into the lives of the men in the community. To give them freedom 
and money and choice was good; to remain aloof was not. 



14 + Clement J. Petrik, SJ. 



Issue: Directed Retreats and Spiritual Direction 

Perhaps the most significant grace of the late sixties and early 
seventies was the resurgence of the directed retreat. For me the directed 
retreat and spiritual direction had two effects. The first, of course, was to be 
able to articulate to someone else my own experience of God and of prayer. 
But more important for me was the opportunity to hear from others their 
experiences and reflections. My faith has always been more formed by the 
faith of others than by anything I could do to build it up. It has been 
helpful to me to share the experiences of others and to know that I am not 
alone in my graces and darknesses. 

The Spiritual Exercises has provided me with a framework for 
thinking about God and God's grace. It has also given me a way to analyze 
the experiences of others and be able to direct them on their next step 
toward the Lord. 

I gave my first directed retreat even before I had made one. I was 
invited to give a directed retreat to nine religious women, all from the same 
house. In June of 1972 we all went together to a little retreat center in 
Rhode Island. I did not know that what I was attempting to do was impos- 
sible — to direct nine persons at once, to see them each day individually, to 
celebrate the liturgies, and to share meals with them. But I did it anyway. 

I learned as rector that some of our men were reluctant to make 
directed retreats. I suspect that it was because they did not trust their own 
experience of God and were therefore unwilling to share that experience 
with someone else. One of my consolations a few years later when I was in 
"the retreat business" was to be asked by some of the men who had lived 
with me at Gonzaga to direct them through the Exercises. For some of them 
it was their first experience of a directed retreat. 

And So . . . 

After six years I considered that I had done my duty in ministering 
to Ours. I was glad to allow someone else to assume this role. Living those 
six years day by day had not seemed difficult. But in retrospect I can see that 
those years were pivotal for everyone. 

I stayed on in the Gonzaga community for four years after my term 
as rector had ended. By that time I had "been sent" to become headmaster of 
the school (another story in itself). Toward the end of my term as rector, 
"Watergate" burst upon us. Both the Vice-President and the President left 
office in disgrace. The country was reeling and Gonzaga too was hitting 
bottom. As headmaster my thoughts and energies were directed towards 



Being Sent •!• 15 

other cares — a rapidly declining student enrollment, an effort to develop our 
curriculum creatively and collaboratively, instituting for the first time a 
community-service program as a requirement for graduation, opening better 
communications with parents, facilitating communication among all seg- 
ments of the school staff. I did not expect to be a superior again. But . . . 

March 1979 

"There is no need to send me/' 

The Superior and Corporate Discernment 

There is no need to send me as director to the retreat house at Faulk- 
ner," I wrote to the provincial in February of 1979. "Just make the 
acting director the permanent director and he will be able to make 
the decisions necessary for the ministry." 

During my sabbatical year at Weston College from 1978 to 1979, I 
had to leave the comfort and security of Cambridge, where I was enjoying 
the time I had been given to visit or interview for various positions in the 
province that needed to be filled. I interviewed somewhat reluctantly for the 
presidency of two different high schools. I did not want the positions, and I 
knew I would not be chosen anyway; my role was to be part of the candi- 
date pool presented to the various search committees. I also went to Loyola 
Retreat House in Faulkner, in southern Maryland. I thought that there was 
no point in assigning me there, because my heart and my values were 
centered on a quite different kind of ministry. I wanted to walk in the 
footsteps of Fr. Horace McKenna in Washington, D.C., in order to learn 
how to serve the poor; and as Horace became more frail and less energetic, I 
wanted to take over his ministry. So I was surprised when I was asked to 
interview or consider other apostolic opportunities. I was even more sur- 
prised when, on the Feast of the Canonization of Ignatius and Xavier, 
March 12, 1979, I had a call from the provincial assistant assigning me to be 
director of the ministry at Loyola Retreat House in rural Charles County, 
Md., and superior of the Jesuit community, which included the Jesuits at the 
retreat house as well as the Jesuits six miles up the road at St. Ignatius 
Parish, Chapel Point, Md. 

Although I had been giving retreats of various kinds almost from 
the time of my ordination sixteen years before, although I had just made a 
"long retreat" at Guelph as part of my sabbatical, and although I was taking 
courses at Weston College on the Spiritual Exercises and on spiritual direc- 
tion, I had never been part of a retreat-house staff. It seemed to me a good 



16 * Clement J. Petrik, S.J. 



thing to cut short my sabbatical year at the end of March and move my 
possessions to Faulkner. I thought I owed it to myself to see what goes on 
in a retreat house before I became the director of one. I moved in on the 
first of April and became director on June 1, 1979. 

Issue: Mixed-Gender Community 

Taking over as director of the work of the retreat house and as 
superior of the Jesuit community, I knew that we were six Jesuits on the 
staff and living in the community. But one religious woman had been 
invited by the previous acting director to come and help for a while with 
retreats. And she was still in residence with us. She was helpful in many 
ways both as a director of retreats and as manager of the housekeeping and 
kitchen staffs. As the months went by and I did nothing to regularize her 
position with the retreat house, one of the men took me aside to tell me 
that I had to do something about her— either to have her stay or to have her 
leave. I invited her to talk with me about her future, and it was clear that 
she wanted to stay. She had many gifts to bring us: by training she was a 
psychiatric nurse; moreover, she had done some hospital administration and 
was experienced in spiritual direction. She had made the thirty-day retreat 
and was familiar with the Exercises. She was skilled in matters involving 
housekeeping and kitchen management, could deal easily with people, and at 
this time was searching for a new direction in her life. Thus, she seemed to 
be a perfect gift to us. With the approval of my brothers, I worked out the 
terms of her membership on our staff, which included her continuing to live 
in our house. 

Our newest staff member easily won over the retreatants, even the 
most macho of them. They were inspired by her words, her understanding, 
and her care. She was able to relieve me of all concern for the kitchen and 
the housekeeping. Because she was a nurse, she was able to handle medical 
emergencies as they arose. Living in the house with us, she was able to be on 
call any time of the day or night. She was a great blessing to the ministry. 

The sister and the six Jesuits all shared equally in our weekly staff 
meetings, which soon became community meetings as well. I saw no need to 
call meetings where only sister was excluded. Since she lived with us, she 
really was part of our community, sharing our community/staff room, our 
meals, our prayer, and our worship. 

The community/staff meetings also became the consultors' meetings. 
At the time, there seemed to be no point in having meetings of the consul- 
tors that would exclude only two of the Jesuits. We were a community 



Being Sent •%* 17 

small enough that whatever would be taken up with consultors could also be 
treated by the whole staff. 

In the course of the years (I would be director-superior for seven 
years) the men began to think that I was too much under the influence of 
sister and that I listened to her more readily than to them. Their criticisms 
had some validity. Sister and I shared some basic points of view and the 
same approach to retreats and direction. I relied very much on her advice 
and assistance— in fact, more than I did on the advice and assistance of our 
men. But she was always there when I needed her or her help. 

I suppose that other Jesuits have been superiors of mixed-gender commu- 
nities. I thought at the time that I had done it well. Sister even made her 
"account of conscience" to me when I invited the men to do so. But the 
men felt that they had no opportunity to be "at home" just by themselves. 
They thought that sister should have had her own community to which she 
could relate. But the circumstances at the time did not make that possible. It 
was an interesting experiment for seven years. Shortly after I was reassigned, 
sister also left. 

Issue: Total Identification of Community and Ministry 

Like the communities of the early Society, the community of the 
retreat house was totally identified with the apostolate. The Jesuits were the 
backbone of the ministry. It was easy to set goals and evolve a mission 
statement for a ministry and community so closely focused. 

It is a blessing to have the mission of the community totally 
identified with all its members. We collaborated in a common ministry. We 
worshiped together each day along with our retreatants. We had a period of 
prayer and sharing each week at our staff meetings. We went away together 
for our staff planning days. Our work was to talk with others about our 
God and about God's place in our lives. Our work was to listen with 
reverence and respect to our retreatants and directees as they shared with us 
their own efforts to live in God's presence and to accept the inspirations 
God gave them in their lives. 

It is also a curse to have the mission of the community totally 
identified with all its members. Mission and community are not the same. 
Community exists for the sake of mission, but mission does not exist for the 
sake of community. Community inspires and facilitates mission; it discerns 
and makes choices about mission. One of my failures as director of the 
ministry and superior of the community was not recognizing the need to 
distinguish clearly the several communities that made up the reality of my 
life and the lives of my associates. 



18 * Clement J. Petrik, SJ. 



In retrospect, I can see that there were overlapping circles of 
communities. These communities were (1) the Jesuits who lived at the 
retreat house and worked in the retreat ministry there, (2) the combined 
group of the Jesuits at St. Ignatius Parish and at the Retreat House, (3) the 
apostolic community that included the Jesuits and the sister (and other 
laypersons at various times) who shared with us the corporate ministry of 
the Spiritual Exercises, and (4) the community of support personnel who 
cleaned the house, cooked the meals, and maintained the buildings and 
grounds. Implicitly I was asking the several communities to give up their 
own identities and to sublimate them into the identity of the larger unit of 
the mission. This inclination of mine had its effect on how things were 
decided and done. Decisions and consultations made for the mission im- 
pacted on the life and the environment of the other communities, especially 
the community of Jesuits living together at the retreat house. The men felt 
that they had no real input into how and where they would eat, sleep, and 
recreate, that they had no private "at home" space which was just their own. 
Even if all the decisions had been the best possible decisions, the process of 
consultation and formulation of the decisions was faulty at best. Some of the 
communities justly felt uncared for by their superior. 

Issue: Justice and Service to the Poor 

Two young women, sisters, each with a child, lived in one motel 
room. There they slept, ate, and tried to be family together. There they 
prepared their children for school and themselves for work; there they tried 
to envision a better future for themselves. Hardly the American dream! 
They lived that way not by choice. Even though both women had been 
employed for some years by Loyola Retreat House, had a regular income 
and the anticipation of ongoing employment, they were unable to secure 
better housing for themselves, even though they could afford the rent. 

A housing system rightly protected the investments of property 
owners, but wrongly discriminated against the poor who, though they had 
steady full-time employment and could afford the monthly rent, were not 
allowed to rent a house because they had no credit, often no bank accounts, 
and usually could not afford the security deposits up front. Noticing these 
circumstances among the employees of our retreat house whom we valued 
highly for their loyalty, hard work, initiative, and their reverence for the 
persons coming to Loyola to find the Lord, we wanted to do what we could 
to help them to live in a more humane and healthy way. 

We began by watching the classified advertisements and by consult- 
ing with real-estate agents. Discovering an advertisement for a house with an 



Being Sent 4* 19 



affordable rent and in a convenient location, one that could provide a home 
for our employees and their children, we would call or go to the house or 
the agent and make inquiries. When sister and I would appear for this 
purpose, the agents were more than eager to show us the house and to rent 
to us, no questions asked. But when we told them we were representing our 
employees, African- Americans for whom we had great concern and affection, 
the barriers went up: credit, security deposit, income level, single parent, and 
so on. We perceived a racist attitude, not uncommon in the counties of 
southern Maryland, in the real-estate agents who were bound by law not to 
discriminate. There was indeed no overt discrimination; in reality, however, 
if you were a poor African-American in southern Maryland, you had no 
chance of a loan at reasonable rates of interest, no chance to purchase your 
own home, no chance to rent a house for your own use. Your only recourse 
was a motel room where the manager collected day by day and was ready to 
evict the resident whenever he pleased. 

How could we at Loyola Retreat House help our employees whom 
we valued highly as collaborators and friends? We decided we would supply, 
as loan or as gift, the necessary security deposit for a home. We would also 
co-sign the lease and guarantee regular payment of the rent. These maneu- 
vers helped a bit with agents and owners; but the traits of racism were still 
evident when we were told, "I have decided not to rent it at this time." *T 
can not afford to put it in shape at this time." "I have already promised it to 
someone else." 

One bitter cold and dark night in January, we learned that a young 
couple about to get married would rent a house they owned to our two 
women employees and their children. Overjoyed, we went to see the house. 
Snow encrusted with a hard layer of ice covered the ground. Out in the 
country where we were, beyond stores and street lights, the darkness was 
profound. As we approached the house, our bodies barely penetrated the icy 
crust on the ground. Slipping and sliding on the icy, dark lawn, we looked 
at the first real home our two employees would be able to have as adults. It 
was a single-storied building with two bedrooms on the ground floor, as well 
as a living room, a dining room, a kitchen, and a bath. In addition, there 
was a furnished attic that would be suitable for sleeping. Though the house 
was not equipped with central heating, it was warmed by an efficient 
kerosene heater. Moreover, the property featured a large lawn that would 
later serve for family gatherings and cookouts. All in all, it was a potential 
paradise for deserving people. 

This first foray into housing inspired us to look into and to help 
other members of our staff and their families. Through a generous benefactor 
and a lay woman who had become a part-time member of our staff, we 



20 * Clement J. Petrik, S.J. 



established the "St. Jude Fund" to help the poor. On the retreat-house 
grounds was a three-foot statue of Mary with a small bronze plaque at its 
base. Only by getting down on one's hands and knees and bending very low 
could one decipher the inscription: "Madonna of the Poor." A copy of this 
statue stood inside the retreat house. It became the place where generous 
retreatants could put contributions to the St. Jude Fund and could help us to 
help the poor of Charles County. 

Jesuit communities are often on the lookout for ways to help the 
poor. Often their efforts are unsatisfying. Checks are written to agencies 
who do the actual caring. At Loyola Retreat House we were by most 
standards a poor Jesuit community. We could not afford to write big checks. 
But we did find a way to enter the lives of the poor and to invite others to 
assist us in our efforts. In the course of my years at Loyola, we were also 
able to create the "Zaccheus Fund," named for the tax collector Zaccheus 
who perched in a sycamore tree, trying to see what Jesus was like. As he 
passed by, Jesus observed Zaccheus perilously perched on a tree branch, and 
he loved him. Then Jesus said, "Zaccheus, hurry down. I mean to stay at 
your house today." With the Zaccheus Fund we tell retreatants too poor to 
afford our per diem to "hurry down here to Loyola; the Lord wants to 
spend time with you. Do not worry about the cost in dollars." 

Issue: Patriotism and the Flag 

It shocked me when one of our Jesuits suggested that a national 
symbol ought not to fly over the house and grounds of a religious institu- 
tion like Loyola Retreat House. The danger, he explained, is the too facile 
readiness to equate, although not consciously, patriotism to the United 
States with goodness and justice. There was a tendency, albeit subtle, to view 
the United States as God's promised land and its citizens as God's chosen 
ones. There was a tendency to view Americans as the predestined and as the 
evangelists of a new world polity and a new world economy. There was a 
tendency to give the American flag a reverence that by rights we gave only 
to the crucifix and the Blessed Sacrament, a reverence so great that to defile 
the flag was akin to sacrilege. Yet everyone should know that the history of 
the United States is not one of noble altruistic thrust, but is pockmarked by 
racial and religious discrimination, greed, exploitation of the poor and the 
laborer, imperialism, deception, overweening competitiveness, materialism, 
isolationism, and a narrow-minded inability to see the good in other philo- 
sophical, political, and cultural systems. The country had recently extricated 
itself from Vietnam and a war that many thought was unjust and immoral. 
Almost all the motivational words and phrases in the popular American 
culture come from sports. Football has become the ritual act that expresses 



Being Sent 4* 21 



who we are and what we hope to be in the United States— winners! The 
entrance hymn is always the same, "The Star Spangled Banner." The flag, 
moreover, is more likely to divide than to unite. It divides "us" from "them" 
and clearly states that we are No. 1. 

Our ministry at Loyola Retreat House went directly counter to 
these American ideals. We wanted, not to separate nation from nation, but 
to unite all peoples as brothers and sisters of Jesus and children of God our 
Father. We did not wish to proclaim "I'm No. 1!" but to insist that each of 
us is No. 1 and that each of us is loved by God to a degree beyond our 
comprehension. We wanted to welcome saint and sinner to our refuge and 
sanctuary. 

Quietly I acceded to the suggestion. Our proud flagpole, gift of one 
of our retreat groups, would stand unadorned with Old Glory. We would 
know the reason, but we would not make a public issue of it. No Washing- 
ton Post photographers capturing the bare and flaking mast silhouetted 
against the cloud-dappled sky! And so it began. 

But then came questions. "No flag flying this weekend, Father?" 
Well, the rope is broken (as indeed it was), so the flag can't be raised. "We'll 
send somebody to take care of that for you, Father." 

"No flag, Father?" Ours was ripped in a storm (as indeed it had 
been) and we do not have another. "I'll send you one, Father, one that flew 
over the Capitol." I soon learned that every day flags are constantly being 
raised and lowered over the Capitol so that they may be marketed as such. 

"No flag, Father?" I am sorry, but we do not have one. "What 
happened to the one we sent you last year?" I do not know what happened 
to it. (Indeed I had no idea where it was.) 

A retired general who had gone ashore at Anzio in World War II 
brought his group on retreat. Good men all, and generous and brave. "We 
brought a flag with us this time!" Well, you can raise it if you wish, but I 
want you to know that we have deliberately chosen not to fly a national 
banner. "What?!?!" Later in the conference room of the retreat house, we 
fought again the battle of Anzio, D day, the Bulge, Saipan, Okinawa, and 
Pearl Harbor. The general and his cohorts thought I was a heretical Jesuit, a 
Commie sympathizer, a hippie peacenik, unpatriotic, anti-American, and 
proclaimed that I should "love it or leave it." I tried to apply the prcesuppo- 
nendum of the Spiritual Exercises to their speech, and I could understand all 
the pain and commitment they had brought to the unquestioned service of 
their country. I would not forcibly take down their flag. Just imagine that 
statue next to the Marine Corps statue in the Washington area! 



22 * Clement J. Petrik, SJ. 



As superior of the community and director of the apostolic mission, 
I had heeded the advice of my community and staff. But it was difficult to 
stand on principle in the face of men who had faced death for their principles. 

Issue: Discernment and Decision Making 

Corporate discernment and decision making was a significant theme 
during my time at the retreat house. In those years we had to make an 
important decision about ministry that could affect the time commitments 
and the responsibilities of all the staff. The decision could also require a 
significant outlay of money. It was a process we had to do together, and so 
we gave it a try. 

One of our men, employing his own initiative, imagination, talents, 
and inventiveness, had developed a ministry to youth using a portion of the 
retreat house's 250 acres and some long-empty farm buildings for this 
ministry. So the question before us was, Do we want to commit ourselves as 
a Jesuit community and as an apostolic community to a corporate ministry 
to youth using the portion of property and the facilities being developed by 
one of our men, a commitment that might require our attendance and our 
presence to this ministry, a commitment to make sure that the facilities were 
being developed according to codes of safety, and a commitment to raise and 
supply the funds necessary for promoting such a ministry? 

The question was not simple. Any decision or a failure to make a 
decision could affect the happiness and the ministerial effectiveness of all of 
us and could divide us as a community. In my view, the key to Ignatian 
discernment and decision making are these elements: (1) recognition by all 
that there is one decision maker and that all are willing to accept his deci- 
sion; (2) recognition by all that universal acceptance of a decision is impossi- 
ble unless each person has Ignatian indifference, the desire to accept the will 
of God even if it differs from one's own desire and inclination; (3) recogni- 
tion that the whole process begins with prayer and continues with an 
awareness of God's presence to the group; (4) an authentic attempt by each 
participant to see and appreciate the viewpoint of the other participants and 
to see the goodness and the weakness in each of the pros and cons; (5) a 
serious attempt to perceive how the Spirit of God is moving in the group 
and a willingness to express this perception and to accept the perception of 
others; (6) a confidence and willingness to entrust to the decision maker the 
task of declaring the decision to be made in the name of all. 

As an apostolic community we went through this kind of process 
for a considerable period of time. It was not easy. What revealed itself was a 
lack of trust that we could each comprehend the issues or could refrain from 



Being Sent 4* 23 



pushing our own favored agenda. The fault, I believe, was in myself. I was 
unable to communicate effectively the process or to model adequately the 
behavior that I expected from everyone. 

As superior of the community and director of the work, I was the 
decision maker. I had invited the staff and community to share the discern- 
ment, and now the decision had to be made. At the end of the group- 
discernment process, I went off for a week alone to review the issues for 
myself, to pray for guidance, and to formulate the decision we would all 
have to follow. I wrote out my decision and my reasoning and presented 
them to the group with a certain amount of peace. There was not universal 
happiness or agreement; but, then, we are Jesuits, after all. 

Issue: Collaboration with Advisory Board and Non-Jesuit Staff 

I would be hard put to answer the question: What is your field? I 
consider myself to have been trained in the seminary to be a more-than- 
adequate minister of word and sacrament and to have been trained outside 
the seminary to be a more-than-adequate teacher of classical and modern 
languages in secondary school. I am grateful that throughout the many 
"careers" I have had in the Society of Jesus, I have always had the opportu- 
nity to be a minister of word and sacrament. I would evaluate that ministry 
as having been effective in the lives of others and gratifying in my own life. 
My seven years at Loyola Retreat House were a graced time when I could be 
a full-time and easily available minister of word and sacrament. I could give 
myself readily to preaching and to spiritual direction with sensitivity and 
compassion. But that was only part of the job. I needed a good deal of help 
for the other managerial aspects of a retreat house facility. 

A board of lay advisors was already in existence. I began to set 
before them the needs and problems that were beyond my competence and 
required their advice and cooperation. The chapel needed to be made more 
suitable for post- Vatican II liturgies. The kitchen had to be brought up to 
code: the county health department had not been happy with our kitchen. 
One of the inspectors had told me he would not have the courage to eat 
food from our kitchen. The house needed fire escapes and smoke detectors. 
The compressor and the cooling tower for the air-conditioning system 
needed replacing. A new well needed to be dug. The emergency generator 
no longer functioned. The cliffs were eroding. Water was seeping through 
the basement walls. The salaries of employees needed to be upgraded. The 
pond needed to be dredged so that it could provide an adequate water supply 
for fire trucks, should there be a fire in the house. Funds needed to be raised 
for these and other projects. 



24 * Clement J. Petrik, SJ. 



The board rose to the occasion and became an invaluable help to 
me. Their own spiritual lives, nurtured in the retreat house, overflowed in 
their service to others by making the retreat house a more permanent 
institution for many more generations of retreatants. The board began to 
develop not just its fiduciary sense, but its proprietary sense and wanted to 
look into the programs and the message being promoted by Loyola's re- 
treats. To a great extent, such concerns were beyond the competence of the 
board. Part of my responsibility as director and as a representative of the 
Society of Jesus was to educate the board in Ignatian spirituality and in the 
goals of our ministry in the Maryland Province. 

In my seven years at Loyola, our staff consisted primarily of Jesuits. 
But for all those years, the sister was part of us, and at various times other 
lay men and women shared our life and our ministry in varying degrees. 
The witness of their lives, the richness of their experience, and the depth of 
their reflections on God's working in them enriched our ministry. Their 
collaboration was invited and welcomed. 

Issue: Collaboration with the Local Church 

Founded in 1958, Loyola Retreat House was considered to be the 
"Archdiocesan Retreat House for Men." Its mission was clearly in service to 
the local church and to the parishes. The Jesuit weekend retreat was one of 
the few ways open to laypersons to develop their spiritual life and their 
relationship to God by means of an intensive experience. But by the time I 
came to the retreat house, the Church and the world had changed. The 
cursillo, the charismatic renewal, and the emergence of groups like Opus Dei 
and the Legionaries of Christ had multiplied the opportunities for spiritual 
growth among the people of God. Loyola had to reconsider its ministry and 
its mission. The familiar scenario of the rising costs of operating an institu- 
tion and the declining client base served to force the issue. Programs had 
been introduced for specific target groups: married couples, men and women 
in twelve-step programs, singles, youth, religious, and so on. 

The approval and encouragement of the archdiocese was important 
to us. Our ministry could not have flourished without it. We welcomed to 
retreats the permanent deacons, the priests, and the seminarians of the 
archdiocese. We invited the cardinal and the bishops to join us in celebra- 
tory events. But our one attempt to invite the archdiocese to collaborate 
with us met with frustration. 

The archdiocese was losing its youth-retreat facility. The office of 
youth ministry of the archdiocese was seriously looking for another place to 
carry out its youth retreats. We invited the archdiocese to share with us the 



Being Sent •$• 25 

youth-retreat facility we were developing, and there was for a time some 
serious interest. But eventually the archdiocese withdrew in order to be 
more autonomous in its ministry. 

And So . . . 

Confronted with the prospect of staying on a year longer than usual 
at Loyola Retreat House, I also began to look forward to a "return to the 
ranks." I considered these seven years to be the most influential on me 
personally. The necessity and the importance of corporate spiritual discern- 
ment were painfully imprinted on me. The consequences of inadequate 
consultation clearly observable. The kind of work I had to do forced me to 
act contrary to my introvert personality. Fund raising and public relations 
demanded my attention. I had to be totally in charge. More important, my 
own spiritual life grew because I had to articulate my own faith and practice 
in response to the confidences placed in me by retreatants. I began to 
articulate my spirituality of "being sent." I became quite knowledgeable 
about the Spiritual Exercises, and I developed a style of preaching retreats 
that was able to touch the lives of the men and women who came to us. I 
learned to appreciate the faith and holiness of persons outside the Catholic 
tradition and to share with them my own faith. My brothers and sisters in 
ministry taught me much about justice and about concern for the poor. 
These lessons would serve me well when I was sent to my next mission. 

December 1985 

"Where everyone is poor 33 

The Superior and Service to the Poor 

We would like you to consider being the pastor of a small in- 
ner-city parish where everyone is poor and where almost all the 
people speak Spanish," our provincial assistant for pastoral minis- 
tries said to me as my term at Loyola Retreat House was coming to an end. 
"Well," I said, "there are a few problems with that. I have never worked in a 
parish. I have never worked with the poor. And I cannot speak Spanish. But 
if that is what you want, of course I shall do it." My assignment to Holy 
Name Parish in Camden, N.J., and its Puerto Rican congregation would not 
be made public for another nine months. And after that time I would have 
an opportunity to learn Spanish in the Dominican Republic before going to 
Holy Name. I would then serve another whole year as associate pastor 
before becoming pastor and superior. 



26 •!• Clement J. Petrik, SJ. 

I was at this time thinking to myself that at my advanced age (I was 
fifty-three) I was in my last significant assignment as a Jesuit. I would no 
longer have a major responsibility for one of our Jesuit ministries. My 
prediction about "significant assignment" proved to be totally inaccurate. 
The time at Holy Name would prove to be my most significant ministry 
thus far. 

Issue: The Camden Context in 1987 

By a ten-year written agreement between the Diocese of Camden 
and the Maryland Province of the Society of Jesus, effective in January 1983, 
the Jesuits took over the ministry of Holy Name Parish and School in the 
northern part of the city of Camden, N.J. The population of that city is 
about eighty-four thousand people. In round figures, 56 percent of the 
population is African-American, 36 percent is Latino, and the rest is "other." 
There is a smattering of Vietnamese, Chinese, Korean, Filipino, and Euro- 
pean (Polish, Italian, Irish, English, and German). There are eight Catholic 
churches, including the cathedral and the pro-cathedral. 

Statistically, Camden is the fifth-poorest city in the country. And 
North Camden, which is the territory of Holy Name Parish, is the poorest 
section of that city. Within the parish boundaries there are about eight 
thousand people: about six thousand of them are Latino, mostly Puerto 
Rican, and almost all of them claim an affiliation with the Catholic Church. 
But perhaps half of this group have not been inside a Catholic church since 
their First Communion. Single-parent households are the norm, as the men, 
unemployed and lacking job opportunities, play the welfare-system game and 
skip out of the house. Teenage pregnancies are common. An uneducated 
adult population has no appreciation of how important education is for the 
future of their children. The dropout rate is horrendous. Only a small 
percentage of students finish high school, and a smaller percentage yet go to 
college. The community colleges have to spend most of their time doing 
remedial work in English and math before the youngsters can progress. 

The unemployment rate in the city is extremely high. Needing 
money and having no jobs, the men easily slip into petty thievery and drug 
dealing. North Camden had become the open-air drug market serving the 
affluent from the wealthy suburbs and from Philadelphia, who whisk into 
the area in their luxury cars, make their deals, and whisk out again. No 
family in North Camden is untouched by the drug culture. There may be a 
daughter who is addicted, a father who is a dealer, an uncle who is in jail, a 
neighbor who died violently. In my first year as pastor, a twelve-year-old 
boy was gunned down in his living room. He was a not-so-innocent victim 



Being Sent <fr 27 



of the drug/poverty culture. I conducted the wake service in the tiny parlor 
of a neighbor's home packed with family, neighbors, and the curious, and I 
laid hands in blessing on every child present and prayed that they be spared. 
The next day, conducting a religion class at our school, I was with the sixth 
grade, youngsters the same age as the murdered child. I asked the class what 
their lives were like in North Camden. Every child had a story to tell of 
violence, bloodshed, death, drugs, and jail that he or she had witnessed or 
that had happened nearby. I staggered out of that class close to tears. 

The youngsters share a common mind-set that in their lifetime they 
will inevitably have to face violence, prison, destitution. There is for them 
no other world. Why waste all that time going to school when I am going 
to die young anyway? Why work and earn and save for what I want when I 
can have it now for the stealing? Why plan for a happiness that will only 
come much later in a lifetime that is not guaranteed to me when I can get all 
the pleasure possible now through sex and drugs? For a youngster from 
Camden, immortality means that after I die from an overdose or from a 
gunshot, I will leave behind a handsome corpse, my friends will wear 
T-shirts with my name on them, and a graffiti artist will emblazon my name 
on the wall of an abandoned house. Exegi monumentum cere perennius. 

Not typical but not uncommon in North Camden was a person like 
my friend Yvette, whom I often referred to as my "Lazarus at the gate." A 
former prostitute, addict, and convict, she was still a manipulator, liar, and 
thief, a victim of AIDS, with open sores over her almost fleshless body. She 
was dirty and smelly, with straggly hair; she had stolen my camera and 
probably other things from the rectory. The parish staff avoided her and 
would not let her into the rectory. Even knowing that she lied to me, 
manipulated me, and stole from me, I gave her money anyway. She had 
given birth to five children by three different men. The last child died in 
infancy, a victim of the AIDS his mother had transmitted to him. Three 
other children were in foster homes. The oldest child was with her. Yvette's 
sister had been shot and killed by an angry boyfriend. She had seen a fellow 
addict die from an overdose. Her happiest days were the months she spent 
in jail, sheltered, clean, well fed, and receiving regular medical care. She 
would become a grandmother at age twenty-nine. The life of this young 
Puerto Rican woman was geographically limited by Philadelphia on the west 
and Atlantic City on the east. For this young woman I felt a genuine love, 
even though I knew that there was nothing I could do to help her perma- 
nently. 

Into this context the Jesuits came in 1983. According to the original 
concept, the ministry would begin with three Jesuits— a pastor-superior, a 
youth minister, and a street person. The promise had been made that the 



28 * Clement J. Petrik, SJ. 



team would grow to have significant social outreach and a component of 
theological reflection. It took a while for all of these pieces to get into place. 
But within two years and with the help and support of the bishop, a Jesuit 
physician and a Jesuit attorney had established their practices in facilities 
directly across the street from the parish rectory. Into this mix I arrived in 
1987 to be associate pastor for one year and then pastor-superior for six 
years. When I became pastor-superior, we numbered five priests and one 
sister. At fifty-five years of age, I was ten years older than the sister and 
thirteen years older than the next oldest priest. 

This Jesuit community was different from the other two where I 
had served as superior. Here we were five men, three of us directors of 
works. Each of these directors had his own mission, staff, facilities, budget, 
and sources of income. My challenge as superior was to facilitate and 
encourage the ministries of each man and to try to bring the various minis- 
tries under the one umbrella of the Jesuit enterprise at Holy Name Parish. 
One strategy to accomplish this goal was the twice-annual gatherings of the 
"joint staffs''— parish, school, law office, and medical services— at the Jesuit 
villa in Cape May, N.J. In these gatherings we all had the chance to share 
prayer, hopes, and experiences. The gatherings were inspirational not just for 
the lay persons but also for the men and women religious. Further adding to 
the sense of unity of mission was the relationship to Holy Name Church 
shared in some measure by all the members of the various staffs. They either 
went to Mass there or sent their children to school there. The unity was 
further strengthened because church, school, law office, and medical services 
all served the same population, basically the Latino population of North 
Camden. As superior I had no authority over any of the ministries. As 
pastor I had authority over the parish and the school. But our commitment 
to a corporate Jesuit ministry in North Camden gave me the moral influence 
to invite the three ministries to share and collaborate. 

Further strengthening the corporate ministry were our efforts at 
fund raising on behalf of the "Friends of Holy Name." The funds would be 
used primarily but not exclusively by our parish and school to help the 
poor. With the support of my Jesuit brothers, I was able to raise what, for 
our poor ministry, was a significant sum of money each year. 

Issue: Collaboration with the Laity and with the Local Church 

Obviously, in a city like Camden, where the social problems are 
beyond belief, where physical danger always threatens, where voiceless 
citizens are ignored by politicians, where stable full-time employment is hard 
to come by, where fourteen-, fifteen-, and sixteen-year-old children are 



Being Sent •!• 29 



having children; where abandoned houses invite drug addicts, prostitutes, 
unwary children, and garbage dumpers; where vacant lots are littered with 
glass and debris; where the schools, especially the middle and secondary 
schools, cannot keep out the weapons, drugs, and violence— in such a city 
the only hope for the people is a coalition of churches, community groups, 
and social-service agencies attempting to give the people voice and empower- 
ment and hope for their lives. Such a coalition has great influence in the 
political offices of city, county, and state. The coalition of such groups can 
attract the attention of the media and allow the voice of the people gradually 
to be heard and respected. 

The Jesuit hubris often wants to go it alone and be a powerful force 
for good. Failing that, the Jesuit hubris aims at leading the charge for justice. 
Only reluctantly does the Jesuit hubris take a lower seat at the table of 
collaboration. Our Jesuit community at Holy Name had all those levels of 
hubris. Each of the five of us possessed all three levels to different degrees. 
We either offered or invited collaboration with individuals, civic organiza- 
tions, church organizations, the police department, the city council, and the 
mayor's office. In a city as small as this, none of the political leaders could 
hide for long from public view. Sooner or later that public official would 
have to listen to one of us or to one of the organizations with which we 
were affiliated. 

Our collaboration with the Sisters of St. Joseph of Chestnut Hill 
was vitally important. They had staffed and directed the parish school, and 
rejoiced when we arrived to share with them the important ministry to the 
Catholic Latino youngsters of North Camden. Our nurturing spirit in the 
parish and pastoral associate was a School Sister of Notre Dame whose 
presence, charity, and competence in the parish gave credibility to the efforts 
of the Jesuit Fathers. Another School Sister of Notre Dame was the office 
manager and physician's assistant in the medical office. She too was an 
indispensable person, and our ministry would have been totally different 
without her. At the heart of our parish was our permanent deacon and his 
wife, whose attention to many details saved the pastor from much confu- 
sion. Collaborating with us also were volunteers from the JVC and many 
volunteers from the parishes of the diocese who wanted to do what they 
could to help the poor. 

We collaborated with the Society. We invited and welcomed into 
our ministry novices, scholastics, and new priests who were looking for an 
experience of ministry in a poor, multicultural urban context. We welcomed 
support from other Jesuit ministries. This support was not just financial: 
students at a university and a secondary school spent time with us, helping 
us to accomplish things in our ministry that we could not do for ourselves. 



30 * Clement J. Petrik, SJ. 



Most important of all, we collaborated with the bishop and the 
diocese. The bishop's charitable funds supported the medical services and the 
law office; his charitable and educational funds supported about half the cost 
of running our kindergarten-to-eighth-grade elementary school. While pastor, 
I served for two years as episcopal vicar for Hispanics. As Jesuit superior I 
had the consoling confidence that we were living out and working for the 
apostolic goals of our province — collaboration in our ministries, education to 
benefit the poor, theological reflection on our ministries, and promotion of 
the Ignatian spirituality of the Spiritual Exercises. 

Issue: Theological Reflection 

Theological reflection on our ministries was part of the original plan 
for the Jesuit work at Holy Name. By the time I arrived, four years into the 
work, this kind of reflection had not yet been undertaken. As superior I was 
aware of the mandate we had, but it was a process beyond my understanding 
and skill. The plan had been that a "scholar" would eventually be assigned 
to our community who, in addition to his scholarly ministry, would enable 
us in the process of theological reflection. That plan did not eventuate. I let 
that aspect of our ministry dangle. 

But halfway through my tenure, we had a young scholar in our 
midst who dragged us kicking and screaming into the process. I kicked and 
screamed because I did not understand the process; others kicked and 
screamed because they were more activist types and achievers and had no 
patience for long introspective processes. But the process began and came to 
a happy conclusion. It lasted almost two years, with regular monthly 
meetings of all members of all the staffs who wanted to participate. The 
process was described in an issue of Human Development several years ago. I 
am not proud that I was unable personally to take the lead in devising the 
theological reflection. But I am proud that two of our community members 
were able to plan and initiate the process and to see it through. 

Issue: What I Have Learned 

What did I learn as superior of the Holy Name Jesuit Community? 
It was my third chance to be a superior. The first two times I felt I was 
equal to the challenges, even though I made mistakes. In this third turn I 
was superior of the community and director of one of the three works of 
our corporate Jesuit apostolate. This is what I learned. 

1. There were things I was capable of doing and other things I could 
not do. I was a good leader of prayer, worship, and sacramental ministry. I 



Being Sent 4* 31 



was a good spiritual director and director of the Exercises for our parishio- 
ners. But I could not organize and direct the theological reflection. I could 
not research the context of our ministry. I could not meet the press and 
present our positions. I could not be the local community organizer. But I 
could be the superior and the pastor. I could allow others to do what they 
did best. I could collaborate with others in their ministries and projects. At 
times intimidated by the professional competence and personal qualities of 
my brothers, I was reluctant to require things of them. Our weekly half 
hour of community prayer, while supported by me, came about through 
another. 

2. Age and age gaps do make a difference. Because I was much older 
than my brothers, they showed me a certain deferential respect. Because I 
was of a generation of Jesuits who were formed in a way much different 
from their own, they recognized the shortcomings in my vision and were 
able to adapt to me. 

3. Relationships with the men in the community are on two levels 
that often do not overlap: the personal and the religious. On the religious 
level, the men were all open and honest with me in their annual "formal 
conversations" and did not seem to mind too much if I asked questions that 
intruded on their privacy and their religious life. On the personal level, there 
was a certain amount of affection and friendship among us, and the desire 
and the effort to build better community with one another. But for all of us, 
our closest friends were elsewhere. 

4. The quality of my communications both public and professional 
improved with my personal involvement with the community and the 
ministry. Because of my deep involvement with the ministry, I was able to 
write eloquently in our fund appeals. I was also able to give talks on our 
ministry that the audience found interesting and moving. 

5. I did not have to succeed at everything. One year at Province Days, 
talking to one of our distinguished priests, I tried to describe our work at 
Holy Name. He seemed to sense in me a dissatisfaction and disappointment 
with what we had been able to accomplish. He pointed out that ours was 
primarily a ministry of presence and hope. Our people did not really expect 
that we were going to be able to solve all their problems. What they wanted 
was the assurance of our presence with them on their journey and the 
promise of hope for the future. The notion of the "ministry of presence and 
hope" gave me great consolation and peace. 

My strong feelings about the ministry led me to commission a 
statue for Holy Name Church. The one statue had two standing figures, one 
behind the other. The front figure is a young boy, with bare torso, blue 
jeans, and high-top sneakers. There are wounds on his body, his head is 



32 * Clement J. Petrik, S.J. 



drooping and his eyes are closed. He is either dead or unconscious. He is 
supported by a figure of Jesus, who lovingly looks down at the boy's face. 
Inscribed in Spanish at the bottom of the statue are the Eucharistic words, 
"Esto es mi cuerpo." The statue is titled "The Body of Christ in North 
Camden." 



And So . . . 

I left Holy Name on a Sunday afternoon in June 1994. I was 
somewhat numb but extraordinarily grateful for the opportunity to have 
served there. I was especially grateful to the Jesuits for the community we 
had formed. As I left, I had a slight feeling of abandoning those who would 
continue ministering in Camden. But yet in faith I knew that once again I 
was being sent. My occasional returns in the next four years would be 
bittersweet. Bitter because the violent death of the young continues and the 
consequences of the drug and poverty cultures continue. Sweet because the 
presence of the Church in their midst makes even stronger the startling faith 
of the people. Sweet because of the besos, abrazos, and carino of the people. 
And bitter because this same affection, offered to me on my return, is not 
merited and cannot be reciprocated. Having lived among the poor, I grew in 
my admiration and respect for their courage, their honesty, and their 
wisdom. They have done great things for me. And I continue to have great 
admiration and affection for those who minister to the people of Holy Name. 



November 1993 

"What about you?" 

The Superior and Collaboration in Ministry 

What about you?" the provincial said in the course of a meeting of 
the province consultors. I was at that time one of the consultors, 
and we were discussing the need to assign a new rector to 
Georgetown Prep School, our Jesuit day and residential school in the 
affluent Maryland suburbs of Washington, D.C. I did not think that the 
provincial was serious. He had made a similar remark once before about 
another situation when I felt he could have been serious. But I protested my 
incompetence to do that ministry, and he rightly listened to me. 

On this second occasion I could not take him seriously, because the 
ministry at Camden where I was completing seven years had given me good 
experience of parish ministry and helped me develop a facility to minister in 



Being Sent 4* 33 



Spanish. Both of those skills I considered to be important for further 
ministry in the province, and I was eager to use them somewhere. George- 
town Prep did not fit the image I had of my future. The ministry at Prep 
was not pastoral, it was not among the poor, and it was not Spanish. 

I had left the high-school ministry fifteen years before. While I 
placed and continue to place a high value on the educational apostolate in 
secondary schools, I really felt that I was too out of touch with that minis- 
try to be able to contribute to it in any significant way. The provincial, 
however, was serious about this assignment, and in June of 1994 I carted my 
possessions to Georgetown Prep. This school, where I had begun my 
regency thirty-seven years before, and all the high schools had developed a 
great deal since I left this kind of work fifteen years previously. There were 
new challenges for the rector of the community. 

Issue: Corporate Community Apostolate 

Our province had instituted a systematic annual apostolic audit in 
which each community rendered an account of how it was living out the 
province's apostolic agenda. This audit was not meant to be an accounting of 
the school's activities as regards collaboration, theological reflection, service 
of the poor, and the promotion of Ignatian spirituality. It was meant as a 
particular examen for the Jesuit community. The audit had two phases: 
formulation of the community's apostolic objectives for the next year 
(September to June) and evaluation of the community's apostolic objectives 
as determined for the present year. It was easy enough to fashion a list of 
practices of the school: so much money given to minority students in 
scholarships, so many students on retreats and in spiritual direction, types of 
service programs our students were involved in, and so forth. But these 
practices did not get at the heart of our corporate commitment to the 
province goals. The challenge to the rector was to help the members of the 
community to grow in their understanding of themselves not just as commit- 
ted to a particular school but as members of the worldwide Society and 
sharing in its apostolic goals. 

Issue: Diminishing Presence and Diminishing Control 

The demographic studies compiled abstractly twenty-five years 
previously were being verified now only too painfully. Of the ten Jesuits 
who were engaged full-time or part-time in the school, five had been there 
more than twenty years. They themselves had become a small community of 
men who cared for each other and who remembered fondly the "old and 
better days when the school was really in Jesuit hands." Two more were 



34 * Clement J. Petrik, SJ. 



regents who were completing their final year of regency. The only Jesuit 
academic administrator was the president. The headmaster, the deans, and 
the business manager were laymen. My Jesuit brothers did not in principle 
object to laymen in control. But they had a hard time seeing in any particu- 
lar layman the qualities and the characteristics which would ensure that the 
school remained in every sense Jesuit. The challenge to me as rector was to 
help our men grow in their perception of how they could best contribute 
their presence as Jesuits in the school in such a way as to have increased 
influence even with decreased authority. The further challenge was to seek 
ways to promote the Jesuit charism among the teaching staff and the admin- 
istration. 

Issue: The JSEA 

Since its inception in 1971 as an entity distinct from the old JEA, the 
Jesuit Secondary Education Association has been a graced resource for all the 
Jesuit secondary schools in the United States Assistancy and has also had a 
worldwide influence. The JSEA, through research and publication, has been 
able to articulate the spiritual rationale of Ignatian education and to promote 
specific strategies to accomplish the aims of Ignatian education. The JSEA has 
trained administrators for Jesuit education, and has sponsored and conducted 
workshops in specific educational works for faculty and staff from all the 
Jesuit high schools in the assistancy. Extremely effective have been the 
biennial colloquia on Jesuit education, open to participants from every 
school, especially faculty and staff who have recently become part of the 
Jesuit educational system. Because of the resources and availability of the 
JSEA, rectors, presidents, and principals have been able to form a community 
of persons imbued with Ignatian spirituality who consider their profession as 
educators to be at the same time a vocation given by God to love and serve 
him in the young. As a result of the contributions made by the JSEA, the 
task of being the animator of the apostolate and of collaborating most 
profoundly with the school administration has been made a good deal easier 
for a Jesuit rector. His challenge will be not the "what" but the "how." 
What he is to accomplish should be fairly clear. Not always clear is how to 
approach the personalities, the politics, the power structure, and the deep- 
rooted practices of a given school. 

Issue: The Province Ministry of Secondary Education 

What I found at Georgetown Prep, and indeed what can be found 
in any institution where the Jesuit faculty has been around for a long time, 
is that the members of the community are totally and proudly committed to 



Being Sent •!• 35 



their school, its traditions, and its alumni. They are particularly sensitive to 
a criticism from an "old boy" that the school is not what it used to be 
"when I was going there. We learned, by God, or we spent our lives in jug." 
And so they give their lives and themselves even more to promoting the life 
of this institution and making it the best possible school it can be. This 
characteristic of our men is a most admirable grace, and it manifests the 
qualities that have always been present in our Jesuit history. 

But just as every curse is also a blessing, so every blessing is also a 
curse. The dark side of such commitment is that it fails to recognize the 
broader question: What is and should be the ministry of the Society of Jesus 
in secondary education? What are the values to be propagated and the target 
population to be served? Is it our present vocation to maintain a significant 
Jesuit presence in schools that now have a life of their own and a clientele 
cultivated over several generations? Or is it time to claim victory, to declare 
that we have indeed been able to provide secondary education for the poor 
and economically segregated Catholic immigrant population of the first half 
of the twentieth century, and that now it is time to revive that same calling 
with more radical institutions that might serve a similarly needy population 
today? 

A Quaker, a member of a Middle States evaluating team that I once 
worked with, said to me that the Quakers came to America to do good, and 
they did well. The Society started its schools in our province to do good and 
they have done well. Their schools have moved to a level of affluence that 
takes them out of the reach of today's target population. What then is the 
mission of the province today in secondary education? How does the 
province best fulfill this mission? Questions such as these a rector needs to 
raise even in the presence of those who, because of their state of mind, are 
unwilling to hear them. A challenge for the rector is to have those currently 
in the schools and those coming into the schools to understand exactly what 
they are choosing and exactly what they are putting aside by their choices. 
And each person needs to discern with his superiors what his Jesuit vocation 
is at the present moment. Mobility and availability are at the heart of the 
Jesuit apostolic charism. The rector must help his men to pray for this great 
grace. 

Issue: Health Care of Jesuits 

Growing in importance are the health-care needs of the men in our 
communities. We are rapidly aging. We no longer need statistics to convince 
us of that. The situation is most acute in our educational institutions, where 
our men have the longest tenure and where they have lived the greatest 



36 •$• Clement J. Petrik, SJ. 



portion of their lives. As the communities get smaller and the income of the 
community declines dramatically, the need to care for the aging, the aged, 
and the infirm will become more demanding. It is unjust and uncharitable to 
dump or warehouse these men in some remote province infirmary. A 
growing challenge to a Jesuit rector is to provide a home and care for his 
brother Jesuits who can no longer be totally independent. It is a challenge 
that he must share with the able-bodied men of his community. None of us 
should be able to point to someone else and say, "It's his worry, not mine." 
Brothers have to care for each other. But the rector will have to be pro- 
active, making sure, especially during his annual "formal conversation" with 
the men, that they are taking proper care of themselves especially with 
regard to diet, exercise, drinking, prayer, and spiritual direction. 

Issue: Prayer 

To be authentic, the Jesuit superior of any community must be able 
to "talk the talk and walk the walk." Let there be no word without deeds 
and no deeds without words. 

I stayed at Georgetown Prep just two years before being sent by 
another provincial to another totally different ministry. The two years were 
hardly enough time to come to grips with all the issues. No one can know 
whether my continued presence would have strengthened the Jesuit charism 
and made it more authentic than before. During those two years I tried to 
model for the community the behaviors I expected of them. I did this by my 
manner of speaking to them at community meetings, by the kinds of work I 
did in the school, and by inviting them to pray with me. 

At the beginning of my first year, I invited the men to join me for 
common prayer one day a week from 7:00 to 7:30 in the morning. We 
would gather in an agreeable place, and I would bear the responsibility of 
preparing the prayer. All they had to do was be present and join in if they 
felt they wanted to. The first week seven showed up. The second week five 
came. For the rest of my two years only the president and I came. But we 
were as faithful to the time as our schedules would permit. For me those 
moments of shared prayer were helpful and consoling. They enabled me to 
bring more faith to bear on my mission to the community and to the 
school. 

And So . . . 

As this monograph goes to press, I am about to be sent a second 
time since I left Georgetown Prep. It sometimes seems like the theory of 



Being Sent •!• 37 



reincarnation — I am sent again and again until I get it right. And then 
nirvana! Coming to the last years of my Jesuit life, I have peace, knowing 
that, although I was not the best, I was at least adequate to the missions 
given to me. Without being too pious, I would like to think that just as 
Jesus was sent in obedience by the Father, so also I have been sent in 
obedience by the Society, and that thereby I have lived as a Companion of 
Jesus. 

Conclusion 

My final recommendation to a superior is: Pray for your men. 
Regularly while at prayer say aloud to God the names of each of 
the men in your community, look at their photographs and 
fantasize them, expressing their love of God and God loving them. Offer 
each one to God and ask God to give this man all that he needs to be an 
effective Jesuit apostle. And then do the same for yourself. 



□ 



Joseph MacDonnell, SJ. 
Jesuit Geometers 

A study of 56 prominent Jesuit geometers, 
mathematicians, and scientists during the 
17th and 18th centuries. 
Paper: ISBN 0-912422-94-7 ♦ $8.00 



Antonio Ruiz de Montoya, SJ. 
The Spiritual Conquest 

A gripping, first-hand account of the 
seventeenth-century Jesuit Paraguay 
reductions by one of their founders. 
Cloth: ISBN 1-880810-02-6 ♦ $24.95 
Paper: ISBN 1-880810-03-4 ♦ $17.95 



John W. Padberg, SJ. (historian) 

Martin D. O'Keefe, SJ. (trans.) 

John L. McCarthy, SJ. (ed.) 

For Matters of 

Greater Moment 

An historical overview of the first thirty 
Jesuit general congregations, and a first- 
ever English translation of their decrees. 
Cloth: ISBN 1-880810-06-9 ♦ $47.95 



Edouard Pousset, SJ. 
Life in Faith and Freedom 

A treatment of Gaston Fessard's renowned 

analysis of the dialectic of the Spiritual 

Exercises. 

Cloth: ISBN 0-912422-41-6 ♦ $9.00 

Paper: ISBN 0-912422-39-4 ♦ $7.00 

Ian D. Roberts 
A Harvest of Hope 

The educational apostolate of the English 
Jesuits from the founding of Stonyhurst in 
1794 to the first world war. 
Paper: ISBN 1-880810-16-6 ♦ $27.95 



William H. McCabe, SJ. 

An Introduction to 

Jesuit Theatre 

The origin, purpose, and evolution of the 
network of Jesuit college theatres and 
drama. 

Paper: ISBN 0-912422-62-9 ♦ $19.00 



Martin D. O'Keefe, SJ. (tr.) 

Oremus: Speaking with God 

in the Words of the 

Roman Rite 

A new, careful, and faithful English trans- 
lation of the Collects, Prayers over the 
Gifts, Prayers after Communion, Sequen- 
ces, Prefaces, and Eucharistic Prayers of 
the Mass. 

Paper: ISBN 1-880810-28-X ♦ $32.95 



Martin E. Palmer, SJ. 

On Giving the 
Spiritual Exercises 

All the "directories" or supplementary 
guidelines for directing the Exercises that 
derive from St. Ignatius and other 16th- 
century Jesuits. 

Cloth: ISBN 1-880810-17-4 ♦ $42.95 
Paper: ISBN 1-880810-18-2 ♦ $34.95 



Matteo Ricci, SJ. 

The True Meaning of 

the Lord of Heaven 

The first English translation of RiccTs 
book that introduced fundamental ideas of 
the Christian tradition into China. 

Cloth: ISBN 0-912422-78-5 ♦ $39.00 
Paper: ISBN 0-912422-77-7 ♦ $34.00 



TEL 314-977-7257 



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Past Issues: Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 
(For prices, see inside back cover.) 

1/1 Sheets, Profile of the Contemporary Jesuit (Sept. 1969) 

1/2 Ganss, Authentic Spiritual Exercises: History and Terminology (Nov. 1969) 

2/1 Burke, Institution and Person (Feb. 1970) 

2/2 Futrell, Ignatian Discernment (Apr. 1970) 

2/3 Lonergan, Response of the Jesuit as Priest and Apostle (Sept. 1970) 

3/1 Wright, Grace of Our Founder and the Grace of Our Vocation (Feb. 1971) 

3/2 O'Flaherty, Some Reflections on Jesuit Commitment (Apr. 1971) 

3/4 Toner, A Method for Communal Discernment of God's Will (Sept. 1971) 

3/5 Sheets, Toward a Theology of the Religious Life (Nov. 1971) 

4/2 Two Discussions: I. Spiritual Direction, II. Leadership and Authority (Mar. 1972) 

4/3 Orsy, Some Questions about the Purpose and Scope of the General Congregation (June 1972) 

4/4 Ganss, Wright, O'Malley, O'Donovan, Dulles, On Continuity and Change: A Symposium 
(Oct. 1972) 

5/1-2 O'Flaherty, Renewal: Call and Response (Jan.-Mar. 1973) 

5/3 Arrupe, McNaspy, The Place of Art in Jesuit Life (Apr. 1973) 

5/4 Haughey, The Pentecostal Thing and Jesuits (June 1973) 

5/5 Orsy, Toward a Theological Evaluation of Communal Discernment (Oct. 1973) 

6/3 Knight, Joy and Judgment in Religious Obedience (Apr. 1974) 

7/1 Wright, Ganss, Orsy, On Thinking with the Church Today (Jan. 1975) 

7/2 Ganss, Christian Life Communities from the Sodalities (Mar. 1975) 

7/3 Connolly, Contemporary Spiritual Direction: Scope and Principles (June 1975) 

7/5 Buckley, The Confirmation of a Promise; Padberg, Continuity and Change in General 

Congregation XXXII (Nov. 1975) 

8/1 O'Neill, Acatamiento: Ignatian Reverence (Jan. 1976) 

8/2-3 De la Costa, Sheridan, and others, On Becoming Poor: A Symposium on Evangelical Poverty 
(Mar.-May 1976) 

8/4 Faricy, Jesuit Community: Community of Prayer (Oct. 1976) 

9/1-2 Becker, Changes in U.S. Jesuit Membership, 1958-75; Others, Reactions and Explanations 
(Jan.-Mar. 1977) 

9/4 Connolly, Land, Jesuit Spiritualities and the Struggle for Social Justice (Sept. 1977). 

9/5 Gill, A Jesuit's Account of Conscience (Nov. 1977) 

10/1 Kammer, "Burn-Out"— Dilemma for the Jesuit Social Activist (Jan. 1978) 

10/4 Harvanek, Status of Obedience in the Society of Jesus; Others, Reactions to Connolly-Land 

(Sept. 1978) 

11/1 Clancy, Feeling Bad about Feeling Good (Jan. 1979) 

11/2 Maruca, Our Personal Witness as Power to Evangelize Culture (Mar. 1979) 

11/3 Klein, American Jesuits and the Liturgy (May 1979) 

11/5 Conwell, The Kamikaze Factor: Choosing Jesuit Ministries (Nov. 1979) 

12/2 Henriot, Appleyard, Klein, Living Together in Mission: A Symposium on Small Apostolic 

Communities (Mar. 1980) 

12/3 Conwell, Living and Dying in the Society of Jesus (May 1980) 

12/4-5 Schineller, Newer Approaches to Christology and Their Use in the Spiritual Exercises (Sept.-Nov. 
1980) 

13/1 Peter, Alcoholism in Jesuit Life (Jan. 1981) 

13/3 Ganss, Towards Understanding the Jesuit Brothers' Vocation (May 1981) 

13/4 Reites, St. Ignatius of Loyola and the Jews (Sept. 1981) 

14/1 O'Malley, The Jesuits, St. Ignatius, and the Counter Reformation (Jan. 1982) 



14/2 Dulles, St. Ignatius and Jesuit Theological Tradition (Mar. 1982) 

14/4 Gray, An Experience in Ignatian Government (Sept. 1982) 

14/5 Ivern, The Future of Faith and Justice: Review of Decree Four (Nov. 1982) 

15/1 O'Malley, The Fourth Vow in Its Ignatian Context (Jan. 1983) 

15/2 Sullivan and Faricy, On Making the Spiritual Exercises for Renewal of Jesuit Charisms (Mar. 

1983) 

15/3-4 Padberg, The Society True to Itself: A Brief History of the 32nd General Congregation of the 

Society of Jesus (May-Sept. 1983) 

15/5-16/1 Tetlow, Jesuits' Mission in Higher Education (Nov. 1983-Jan. 1984) 

16/2 O'Malley, To Travel to Any Part of the World: Jeronimo Nadal and the Jesuit Vocation (Mar. 

1984) 

16/3 O'Hanlon, Integration of Christian Practices: A Western Christian Looks East (May 1984) 

16/4 Carlson, "A Faith Lived Out of Doors": Ongoing Formation (Sept. 1984) 

16/5 Kinerk, Eliciting Great Desires: Their Place in the Spirituality of the Society of Jesus (Nov. 1984) 

17/1 Spohn, St. Paul on Apostolic Celibacy and the Body of Christ 0an. 1985) 

17/2 Daley, "In Ten Thousand Places": Christian Universality and the Jesuit Mission (Mar. 1985) 

17/3 Tetlow, Dialogue on the Sexual Maturing of Celibates (May 1985) 

17/4 Spohn, Coleman, Clarke, Henriot, Jesuits and Peacemaking (Sept. 1985) 

17/5 Kinerk, When Jesuits Pray: A Perspective on the Prayer of Apostolic Persons (Nov. 1985) 

18/1 Gelpi, The Converting Jesuit (Jan. 1986). 

18/2 Beirne, Compass and Catalyst: The Ministry of Administration. (Mar. 1986) 

18/3 McCormick, Bishops as Teachers and Jesuits as Listeners (May 1986) 

18/5 Tetlow, The Transformation of Jesuit Poverty (Nov. 1986). 

19/1 Staudenmaier, United States Technology and Adult Commitment (Jan. 1987) 

19/2 Appleyard, Languages We Use: Talking about Religious Experience (Mar. 1987) 

19/5 Endean, Who Do You Say Ignatius Is? Jesuit Fundamentalism and Beyond (Nov. 1987) 

20/1 Brackley, Downward Mobility: Social Implications of St. Ignatius's Two Standards 0an. 1988) 

20/2 Padberg, How We Live Where We Live (Mar. 1988) 

20/3 Hayes, Padberg, Staudenmaier, Symbols, Devotions, and Jesuits (May 1988) 

20/4 McGovern, Jesuit Education and Jesuit Spirituality (Sept. 1988) 

20/5 Barry, Jesuit Formation Today: An Invitation to Dialogue and Involvement (Nov. 1988) 

21/1 Wilson, Where Do We Belong? United States Jesuits and Their Memberships (Jan. 1989) 

21/2 Demoustier, Calvez, et al., The Disturbing Subject: The Option for the Poor (Mar. 1989) 

21/3 Soukup, Jesuit Response to the Communication Revolution (May 1989) 

22/1 Carroll, The Spiritual Exercises in Everyday Life (Jan. 1990) 

22/2 Bracken, Jesuit Spirituality from a Process Prospective (March 1990) 

22/3 Shepherd, Fire for a Weekend: An Experience of the Exercises (May 1990) 

22/4 O'Sullivan, Trust Your Feelings, but Use Your Head (Sept. 1990) 

22/5 Coleman, A Company of Critics: Jesuits and the Intellectual Life (Nov. 1990) 

23/1 Houdek, The Road Too Often Traveled (Jan. 1991) 

23/2 DiGiacomo, Ministering to the Young (March 1991) 

23/3 Begheyn and Bogart, A Bibliography on St. Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises (May 1991) 

23/4 Shelton, Reflections on the Mental Health of Jesuits (Sept. 1991) 

23/5 Toolan, "Nature Is a Heraclitean Fire" (Nov. 1991) 

24/1 Houdek, Jesuit Prayer and Jesuit Ministry: Context and Possibilities 0an. 1992) 

24/2 Smolich, Testing the Water: Jesuits Accompanying the Poor (March 1992) 

24/3 Hassel, Jesus Christ Changing Yesterday, Today, and Forever (May 1992) 

24/4 Shelton, Toward Healthy Jesuit Community Living (Sept. 1992) 

24/5 Cook, Jesus' Parables and the Faith That Does Justice (Nov. 1992) 

25/2 Donahue, What Does the Lord Require? (March 1993)— ONCE AGAIN AVAILABLE 

25/3 Padberg, Ignatius, the Popes, and Realistic Reverence (May 1993) 



25/4 Stahel, Toward General Congregation 34 (Sept. 1993) 

25/5 Baldovin, Christian Liturgy: An Annotated Bibliography (Nov. 1993) 

26/1 Tetlow, The Most Postmodern Prayer (Jan. 1994) 

26/2 Murphy, The Many Ways of Justice (March 1994) 

26/3 Staudenmaier, To Fall in Love with the World (May 1994) 

26/4 Foley, Stepping into the River (Sept. 1994) 

26/5 Landy, Myths That Shape Us (Nov. 1994) 

27/1 Daley, "To Be More like Christ" (Jan. 1995) 

27/2 Schmidt, Portraits and Landscapes (March 1995) 

27/3 Stockhausen, I'd Love to, but I Don't Have the Time (May 1995) 

27/4 Anderson, Jesuits in Jail, Ignatius to the Present (Sept. 1995) 

27/5 Shelton, Friendship in Jesuit Life (Nov. 1995) 

28/1 Begheyn, Bibliography on the History of the Jesuits (Jan. 1996) 

28/2 Veale, Saint Ignatius Speaks about "Ignatian Prayer" (March 1996) 

28/3 Clooney, In Ten Thousand Places, in Every Blade of Grass (May 1996) 

28/4 Starkloff, "As Different As Night and Day" (Sept. 1996) 

28/5 Beckett, Listening to Our History (Nov. 1996) 

29/1 Hamm, Preaching Biblical Justice (Jan. 1997) 

29/2 Padberg, The Three Forgotten Founders (March 1997) 

29/3 Byrne, Jesuits and Parish Ministry (May 1997) 

29/4 Keenan, Are Informationes Ethical? (Sept. 1997) 

29/5 Ferlita, The Road to Bethlehem-Is It Level or Winding? (Nov. 1997) 

30/1 Shore, The Vita Christi of Ludolph of Saxony and Its Influence on the Spiritual Exercises of 

Ignatius of Loyola 0an. 1998) 

30/2 Starkloff, "I'm No Theologian, but . . . (or So . . . )?" (March 1998) 

30/3 Torrens, The Word That Clamors (May 1998) 

30/4 Petrik, "Being Sent" (Sept. 1998) 



Philip Sheldrake, S.J. (ed.) 

The Way of 

Ignatius Loyola 

A series of essays, by prominent authors, 
on the Ignatian tradition: the text and 
dynamics of the Exercises, other central 
Ignatian topics. 

Cloth: ISBN 0-912422-67-X ♦ $29.95 
Paper: ISBN 0-912422-65-3 ♦ $19.95 

David M. Stanley, SJ. 
"I Encountered God!" 

Selected passages from St. John's Gospel 
appropriate for an Ignatian retreat, 
interpreted to stimulate prayerful reflection. 
Cloth: ISBN 0-912422-72-6 ♦ $14.00 
Paper: ISBN 0-912422-71-8 ♦ $11.00 

Jules Toner, S.J. 
A Commentary on Saint 
Ignatius' Rules for the 
Discernment of Spirits 

An in-depth treatment of St. Ignatius's 

rules for discernment, aimed at correct 
understanding and application. 

Cloth: ISBN 0-912422-43-2 ♦ $31.95 

Paper: ISBN 0-912422-42-4 ♦ $21.95 

Jules Toner, S.J. 
Discerning God's Will 

The basic problems and divergent positions 
involved in Ignatian texts about 
discernment of God's will. 
Cloth: ISBN 0-912422-82-3 ♦ $37.95 
Paper: ISBN 0-912422-83-1 ♦ $24.95 

Martin R. Tripole, S.J. 
Faith Beyond Justice 

A critical examination of the adequacy of 
"faith and justice" as criteria for ministries. 
Paper: ISBN 1-880810-07-7 ♦ $14.95 



Joseph Simons, S.J. 
Jesuit Theatre Englished 

English translations of plays originally 
performed in the Jesuit college theatres of 
the 17th and 18th centuries. 

Cloth: ISBN 0-912422-95-5 ♦ $34.95 
Paper: ISBN 0-912422-96-3 ♦ $24.95 

David M. Stanley, S.J. 

A Modern Scriptural 

Approach to the 

Spiritual Exercises 

Biblical and doctrinal foundations for 
prayer, following the order of the chief 
contemplations of the Spiritual Exercises. 
Paper: ISBN 0-912422-07-6 ♦ $19.95 

Joseph A. Tetlow, S.J. 

Choosing Christ 

in the World 

A handbook on directing St. Ignatius's 
Spiritual Exercises acording to the 18th 
and 19th annotations. 
Loose-leaf binder: ISBN 0-912422-97-1 
♦ $21.95 

Jules Toner, S.J. 

Spirit of Light or Darkness? 

A Casebook for Studying 

Discernment of Spirits 

A practical case book, intended to help in 
learning or teaching the art of discernment 
of spirits. 

Paper: ISBN 1-880810-12-3 ♦ $14.95 

Jules Toner, S.J. 
What Is Your Will, O God? 

A series of practical cases, designed to be 
a help toward learning and teaching 
discernment. 

Paper: ISBN 1-8808 10-14-X ♦ $14.95 



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